


Took You Long Enough

by widownats



Category: Captain Marvel (2019), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Eventual Smut, F/F, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Light Angst, Original Character(s), Past Relationship(s), Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 07:13:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20903714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/widownats/pseuds/widownats
Summary: “Mandated therapy?”Wanda looks up from the dark wood of the conference room table to look at Agent Hill and then to Peter, who looks like he’s going to puke.He looks like that a lot now. She’s found him crying in random rooms of the facility despite the fact that there’s no traces of Tony to be found. It’s a replica of a place that had once been Wanda’s home - rather, where she had lived with Natasha.She shifts in her seat, leans back against the rolly chair that she’s in, and sighs. It tastes bitter.“That’s right. Appointments will be on days that best fit your schedule. We’ve all been through a lot and none of us get to go back to the lives we used to live. This takes adjustment and time - time that we didn’t have until now.”





	Took You Long Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [widowcorp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/widowcorp/gifts).

> this was supposed to be around 1k but it got a little bit out of hand 
> 
> for my favorite, hope you like this version of our girls as much as i do <3

“Mandated therapy?” 

Wanda looks up from the dark wood of the conference room table to look at Agent Hill and then to Peter, who looks like he’s going to puke.

He looks like that a lot now. She’s found him crying in random rooms of the facility despite the fact that there’s no traces of Tony to be found. It’s a replica of a place that had once been Wanda’s home - rather, where she had lived with Natasha. 

She shifts in her seat, leans back against the rolly chair that she’s in, and sighs. It tastes bitter. 

“That’s right. Appointments will be on days that best fit your schedule. We’ve all been through a lot and none of us get to go back to the lives we used to live. This takes adjustment and time - time that we didn’t have until now.” 

“I for one think it’s a great idea,” Sam says, running one of his hands through his hair, a slanted smile on his face. “Therapy’s a good thing that needs to be destigmatized, it helps, a lot, and like Hill said - we’ve got time.” 

“Yeah right,” Bucky snorts, there's a dark look in his eyes that’s been there since Steve left and Wanda can’t even begin to imagine how _ that _feels for him. “We’ve got time until the next purple guy shows up and tries to kill everyone.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be an issue,” And it’s Captain Danvers that speaks. Her voice feels like salt on Wanda’s bleeding heart, a reminder of just how much she’s lost. “Things are quiet.” 

“For now,” Bucky says, and Wanda knows he’s right.

She also knows that she doesn’t want to get back into fighting anytime soon, not after she’s truly lost everything. Why would she? All it’s ever done is bring her pain and suffering. 

Steve gave Sam the shield, Peter’s alive, and well, Captain Danvers shoots fire from her fists.

That’s plenty of people who can help in a crisis without her having to get involved. 

“What if you don’t do the therapy?” She asks, voice rough from lack of use. She doesn’t really talk much these days, there’s usually no reason to say anything. Anyone she’d want to talk to is old, unreachable, or dead somewhere in space. 

Her body stiffens at her own thoughts and she exhales through her nose, ignores the almost _ understanding _look that Agent Hill is giving her.

“Well, you’d be deemed too unstable to do any field work, which means no fighting, which means no protecting the people, which is why we’re here, isn’t it?”

“We’re _ here _ because we have nowhere else to go,” Bucky says, eyes blazing along with his tone. Wanda understands why he’s angry, she is too - she can’t even _ look _at Captain Danvers without feeling ready to send a heavy hex blast her way. 

It’s a childish thing to want, she can’t blame Natasha for moving on, for being happy, but it doesn’t mean that she likes it - likes _ her _. After all, before the snap they’d still been together, and then she got back and Natasha was dead with a new girlfriend to match, so she’s dealing with both of those things as nicely as she can. 

It doesn’t help that Captain Danvers is truly, very attractive. Wanda can see why Natasha would go for someone like her, from the cool suit to the haircut and the sharp line of her jaw. She’s a sight for Wanda’s angry eyes, Captain Danvers’ good looks only adding to her sour mood. 

“Maximoff?” Sam asks, like he’s done it a couple of times. Wanda blinks, Maria and Captain Danvers are talking in the corner of the room, everyone else having gotten up and left. 

“Coming,” Wanda says, swallowing thickly, the dryness of her throat an unpleasant feeling.

* * *

“Maximoff?” Captain Danvers’ voice is muffled by Wanda’s bedroom door and by the three quick knocks she taps onto the wood. 

Wanda sets her tea mug down on her nightstand with an annoyed sigh, anger simmering low and hot in her stomach. She was getting ready to snuggle with Natasha’s favorite sleep shirt and daydream herself to sleep. Her favorite time of day, just her, Natasha, and windy spring air.

She folds one arm across her stomach and opens the door, staring at Carol with one impatiently raised eyebrow and a bored look. 

“Hey, did I wake you?” Carol asks, an anxious look in her eyes, smile curved and handsome.

A different type of heat clashes with the anger and Wanda sighs in annoyance, nostrils flaring as she exhales. “No, you didn’t. Why?” 

“Well, Maria - Agent Hill, she emailed me our therapists? I just wanted to give you the list.” Carol brings her hand away from behind her back and reveals a stack of papers, smile turning annoyingly sheepish, body tilting just a bit closer to Wanda’s as she leans on the arm she’s got braced against the top of the door. 

The sleeves of her white crew neck tee-shirt hug her biceps tight, a distracting view of tan skin, Carol’s grey sweatpants hang low on her hips and she’s wearing bright red socks with a pair of _ Nike _ slides. Wanda feels overwhelmed, throat dry, stomach clenching at the hall light glinting over Carol’s ruffled up hair. She’s other worldly. 

Wanda hates her, takes a step back into the room and narrows her eyes as she glares at Carol’s socks. “I’m not doing the therapy.” 

“What?” Carol asks, voice tweaked with surprise. 

“You heard me. If that’s all you needed?” She asks, moving to close the door. Carol’s eyes go wide and she rushes to place an arm on the door, holding it open. 

“I - do you maybe wanna have a beer?” 

It comes out a mumbled, nervous rush, and Wanda can’t help but scoff, rolling her eyes.

“Good night, Captain _ Danvers _,” She says, shutting the door before Carol can open it and locking the door for good measure. 

There’s no way in hell she’ll be able to think of Natasha without crying now, so Wanda digs up her headphones from her nightstand and plugs them into her phone, hitting shuffle on her playlist and laying back on her bed. Why the hell did Captain Danvers want to have a beer with Wanda? It didn’t make any sense, she had no interest or desire in befriending Carol. 

The only thing they have in common is caring about Natasha and Wanda doesn’t think she’ll ever feel ready to talk about her feelings. 

Not to a therapist and certainly not to _ Carol _.

* * *

Wanda gets a letter from one Steve Rogers about three months after the reversal. His handwriting is the same - neat, spiraling cursive that spills across the paper like artwork. 

And hell if she doesn’t miss him, wonders how long it will be until he’s also gone, erased from her life like everyone else she’s ever cared about.

_ Wanda, _

_ I hope you are doing alright, I know it can’t be easy. I’m writing you to say that I tried to bring her back, I was ready to give up everything, the serum, this life, all of it, but the universe has rules that can’t be bent regardless of how hard we try. _

_ I’m sure you think I’m selfish for leaving, for going back, but I’ve had the life that Tony always told me to get. If you ever want to talk about Natasha, I’m here to listen. Losing the love of your life is no simple or easy thing. It’s painful and hallowing and leaves an ache in your chest that can be buried but never soothed. _

_ Watch out for Bucky, make sure he isn’t shutting himself off, and watch out for Carol. You may not like her, you may be angry because Natasha loved her, but she is grieving too. _

_ If you ever need a friend I will be here, _

_ Steve Rogers. _

  


“You okay?” 

Wanda blinks, watches the way a tear splatters against the bottom of the page and wipes at her eyes before she folds up the letter. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” 

“You’re crying,” Captain Danvers points out, eyes soft and countering the blankness of her face.

“Why do you care?” Wanda asks, voice sharp and cutting. Tears are still threatening to fall, a heavy feeling in her throat, and she’s angry. 

Angry at Steve, angry at Natasha, angry at _ Carol _.

“I don’t,” Carol responds, bringing the beer that she’s holding in her hand up to her mouth and taking a swig. Wanda wonders if she knows that it’s only two in the afternoon. “But she would.”

“We are _ not _having this conversation,” Wanda says, a hollow laugh leaving her throat as she shakes her head. She shoves the letter back into the envelope and then into her pocket. 

There’s magic thrumming beneath her fingertips, threatening to escape her and fling Carol through the coffee table in the living room. Wanda would love to be able to do it without consequences but figures she should at least try to be an adult.

“She’d want you to talk to someone,” Carol says, her hands finding Wanda’s shoulders when she moves to get past her. She backs her against the cabinets, breath scented with beer. She feels sick, trapped, beyond pissed off that Carol’s hands are on her. On _ her _sweater. 

“And she wouldn’t want you to drink in the middle of the day, but it doesn’t matter. She’s _ dead _ and you didn’t do a damn fucking thing to stop it.” 

The words cut like a knife, heart feeling like it’s close to crumbling apart, a giant, unrelenting ache that sits in her chest like a brick.

Carol’s jaw clenches, eyes going watery, and she nods, huffs out a sigh. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“What?”

“You’re _ right _ ,” Carol says, shaking her head, hands leaving Wanda’s shoulders to rest on the cabinet, arms bracketing her head. “She’s dead and _ I _didn’t do a damn fucking thing to stop it.” 

Her arms are shaking, Wanda’s almost positive that she’s hearing wood splinter, and she doesn’t think anything could’ve prepared her for this. 

“Not a damn thing,” Carol mutters, and her fist comes down hard against the cabinet. It makes Wanda flinch despite herself and then she’s moving, picking up her beer and leaving.

* * *

“You gonna suit up?” 

Wanda looks up from her book - _ Gatsby _ \- and finds Sam in his new captain suit, all blue and red and white and _ amazing _ . Bucky’s sitting on the couch, lacing up his boots, shield strapped to his back and _ how _did she miss them coming in?

“Can’t,” Wanda answers, eyes falling back to her book, brain still daydreaming of Natasha dressed up like one of these girls. Ah, that’s how.

“She doesn’t go to therapy, ‘member?” Bucky asks, rising from the couch, a knife flipping between his fingers. Wanda doesn’t have to wonder about how he does that anymore.

“Right. Why is that?” 

“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to ask why somebody does therapy or not, Sam.” Her voice comes out sharp, defensive, images of Natasha being replaced by how many times she’s seen Carol walking around with a beer in her hand this week : _ 175 _, which can’t be at all healthy. 

Wanda’s pissed at herself for even noticing. 

She blames Steve. 

She also wonders if Carol’s therapist knows about her increased consumption of alcohol. 

Probably not. 

“Alright well, we wouldn’t rat you out if you came with?” Sam’s voice makes her look up, his eyebrows are raised, hope evident in his eyes.

Yet again, she’s the one crushing everyone’s light like a villain who just can’t get enough.

“No.” 

“C’mon man, we’ve gotta go. Hill and Carter will be pissed if we’re late.” Bucky gives Sam a shove forward and Wanda turns back to her book, knows that she won’t be able to focus. 

She tries regardless, her ridiculous amount of effort being interrupted by Captain Danvers stumbling her way through the front door. 

There’s a bottle of whiskey in her hand this time, her fingers are trembling, knuckles caked with blue blood. Wanda wonders what she hit hard enough to make herself bleed. 

“_ Christ _,” Carol mutters, saving herself from tripping by slamming a hand down on the table behind the couch, whiskey spilling onto the floor.

Wanda, for some unspeakable reason, gets up off the couch, fingers twitching to tilt the bottle up.

“What the fuck?!” Carol yells, throwing the whiskey bottle across the room. It shatters against the wall and Wanda sighs, moves to catch her before she falls on her ass. 

Her arms are strong, skin smooth, and she’s such a stupidly handsome sight. Who does she think she is? Walking around wearing nothing but a bro-tank, flannel wrapped around her waist, it’s annoying and distracting and Wanda wants to ki-

_ Nope _ , _ shut it down _.

“It’s just me.” 

“Wanda?” Carol asks, head tilted to the side, and then she throws her head back and _ giggles _, bubbles of pure and unadulterated laughter. 

Wanda’s throat tightens, stomach twisting like it’s full of bats. She can’t fucking stand her, or her drunken, adorably stupid _ stupidity _. Idiot. 

“What’s so funny?” 

Carol’s chest is heaving, her breathing mismatched - “You _ saved _me!” 

“Right. I think you should go to bed.” 

Carol, for all of her monotone stares, looks for all the world like a confused puppy. Wanda decides she hates golden retrievers and anything associated with them. “But it’s light outside.”

“It’s almost sundown, you’re fine.” 

“You are too,” Carol says, lips going into a titled half smile. Wanda thinks the exaggerated blinking and what seems to be some attempt at slow motion lip biting is her way of being sexy. 

At least, her drunken way of being sexy. 

It misses the mark. 

“Right. Could you at least lay down? I don’t want to be the one cleaning up your puke, Danvers.” 

“I’m not gonna puke, _ you’re _ going to puke,” Carol counters, seeming almost childlike as she pokes Wanda hard in the stomach and then her whole face crumples and she’s _ crying _ . “ _ Fuck me. _” 

“Okay, c’mon, I’ll clean you up.” 

“I _ hate _ him!” Carol yells, pulling away from Wanda and stumbling over her boots. “I fucking _ hate _ him - who does he think he _ is _ , leaving me in a world without her? He could’ve _ stopped _her.”

Wanda swallows, throat going thick, hot tears building in her eyes. Carol brings her bloody hand up to her mouth and just shakes, entire body trembling as her cries fall silent. 

“Danvers,” She sighs, reaching out to her with trembling hands. Carol moves away from her and Wanda sighs, steadies her hands on her arms. 

“_ Danvers _.” 

“Don’t you miss her?” Carol asks, eyes full of blazing anger, tears falling down her cheeks. 

She’s heartbreaking to look at.

Wanda sighs, bites down on her cheek to fight back the tears, and stares at Carol’s flannel. 

“More than anything.” 

“I miss the way she ran her fingers through my hair, y’know? All soft and gentle, felt like heaven.”

Tears slip down her cheeks and Wanda allows herself to break, to crack just a fraction. Carol’s drunk, probably won’t even remember. 

“I can’t sleep without her. That’s what I miss the most - the way she held me like I was something precious, something worthy of her love.” 

“She’s so _ dumb _,” Carol laughs, sad and broken and quiet. “I love her.” 

“Yeah,” Wanda says, a small smile on her face. “I love her too.” 

* * *

Wanda settles into a routine over the next couple of months: wake up, cry, shower, eat an apple for breakfast, drink tea, read a book, eat another apple, drink more tea, watch Love Island, etc. 

She’s found that she can only sleep on the couch, even if it’s for two hours at a time. 

It’s definitely not because Danvers has become a hibernating bear during the day time and a nighttime drinker that Wanda likes to make sure gets to bed safe - nope, not at all. 

They talk, sometimes about cats - Danvers mentions that hers (Goose) ate the tesseract at one point - or Love Island or - Wanda’s least favorite - Natasha. She doesn’t know if Carol remembers their talks or the things that she says, doesn’t even really _ want _to know, but it's nice.

Nice to allow herself to crumble.

She finds herself staring at the door, the show nothing but an annoyance to the corner of her eye, and finds herself wondering what time it’ll be tonight. She also knows that the clubs are probably at their prime, that Carol could be doing anything or any_ one _ and _ no, Love Island, focus on the basic white boys Wanda. Basic white boys. _

And then the door opens, Carol kicking off her boots with precision. She shuts the door quietly behind her and then turns the lock, shoves her keys into her coat pocket before she shucks off the leather and hangs it up. 

“You’re still up?” 

“Yeah,” Wanda says, sitting up on the couch and bringing her knees to her chest. “How was the bar?” 

Carol sits down right next to her legs, doesn’t seem bothered by the fact that Wanda’s sock covered toes are pushing against her thigh. 

“Didn’t go - I flew out to Louisiana to see Maria.”

“Hill?” Wanda asks, head tilting as she tries to put together why Maria would be in the south.

“No, my best friend.” 

“Oh,” Wanda says, leaning back against the cushion, careful not to knock her head against the lamp like she continues to do. 

She feels better now that Danvers is home, although she’s a little unsure how to navigate a conversation with her being sober. The air is thick, surprisingly pleasant instead of awkward.

Wanda thinks she finds it comfortable. 

She’s not sure how she feels about that or the curve of Carol’s jaw being illuminated by the tv.

“Do you - I could help you sleep, maybe? If you want?” Carol asks, sounding unsure, eyes flicking between her and the tv screen. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I could hold you.” 

“_ Hold _me?” Wanda asks, voice coming out more defensive than she intended. Carol recoils, body going stiff as she moves to shift over. Wanda’s reaching out and grabbing her wrist before she can think about it - “We can try it.” 

“_ Really _?” Carol asks, surprise evident in her eyes. Wanda nods, a heavy feeling in her throat, bats swarming dangerously in her stomach.

“Okay, great, uhm, how?” 

“Here,” Wanda says, rising from the couch with shaking legs, anticipation curling warm in her gut. 

Carol blinks but then moves to take Wanda’s spot, pulling the blankets out from underneath her legs. She taps the spot beside her and Wanda’s face goes hot. This is a bad idea.

She settles down regardless, body stiff, eyes finding the tv screen even though she can’t focus on anything except for the way Carol’s chest rises into her back with every exhale.

Her arm wraps around Wanda’s waist, the weight warm and heavy, only settling once she’s got the blankets pulled up to Wanda’s chin. It’s odd, the feeling of someone’s arm wrapped around her after months of nothing. Carol’s hand is splayed open on top of the blanket and she tugs Wanda in close, rests her face against her shoulder.

“Good?” 

“Yeah,” Wanda mumbles, feeling ready to start purring when the blanket gets unnaturally warm.

Carol’s fingers hold a gentle glow, the heat seeping through the blanket and over Wanda’s stomach, where it spreads across her body. 

Her eyes flutter close when Carol’s face rests between her shoulder blades, just as warm as her hand, and Wanda falls asleep with ease.

* * *

“Sam?” 

“What’s up?” He asks, words slightly muffled by the cereal he’s crunching up in his mouth. 

There’s milk on his chin, Wanda wants to reach out and wipe it up for him. The boys are children.

“Danvers gave you the list right? The one with the therapists on them?” She asks, fingers fiddling with her rings. She doesn’t want him to get his hopes up but damn it he _ does _, she can see the exact moment it happens, the spark.

“I knew you’d come around,” He says, pointing his spoon at her and flying corn flakes across the table. “I’ll get it for you tomorrow. This is great.” 

“Sam.” 

“What? It is - maybe we’ll finally find a rhythm.” 

“Sam, just because I’m willing to go doesn’t mean I’m willing to fight. I just need someone to talk to that isn’t you or Steve-“

“You talk to Steve?” Bucky asks, his place of pouring out orange juice in the kitchen going still. 

_ Great _, she’d forgotten he was in there. 

“Letters. He sends letters, not often though. He’s been encouraging me to go since I mentioned it and well, he’s stubborn and likes to nag.” 

Bucky’s jaw sets and his cup overflows, then he dumps it down the sink and starts over. 

Just one more thing she’s messed up.

“Right, well, I’m going to my room,” Wanda says, clearing her throat and walking out of the kitchen. 

Something hits the cabinets with a bang and she flinches, shaking her head as she climbs the stairs. They’ll probably be seeing even less of Bucky now, the facility like an empty house. 

Danvers has been gone more recently, comes back without reeking like alcohol. Comes back and tucks a fake sleeping Wanda in, every night without fail. She’s not sure what to think of it. 

Just that she knows Carol always gives her shoulders an extra long and warm squeeze before she goes upstairs. It’s nice.

* * *

Wanda’s therapist is a nice looking man named Adam. He’s got neatly trimmed hair and a full beard and his smile seems genuine enough. 

Except she’s awkward and now that she’s here, sat across from him in one of the cushioned seats of his office, she wants to leave. 

A guy who wears pink button ups can’t be qualified enough for her, especially a guy with _ kids _and a wife, a family. They’re still young, his kids, if the picture on his desk is recent. 

She can’t hurt anymore people and everywhere she goes chaos tends to follow. 

“This was a mistake.” 

He doesn’t seem surprised, his face is still welcoming and kind and he bends one leg over the other. “Okay. What makes you say that?”

“You have a family and I’m _ me _ . I don’t - _ won’t _be the reason anymore people get hurt.” 

“Are you going to hurt me?” He asks, still calm, patient even, leaning back in his seat. 

“Well no, but someone could try to hurt me and then you’d get hurt too. That wouldn’t be fair.” 

“No, it wouldn’t. But I chose to take your case, to help you, so if anything were to happen I would be responsible for my own safety.” 

Wanda sighs, stares down at her lap, her fingers twisting her rings around. She doesn’t know what to say to that, except that she’d feel responsible for him even though it _ was _his choice to help her. 

“I’m not going to make you stay, Wanda. If you don’t feel comfortable or would like to find someone else that’s more than fine. You set the pace here, there’s no time limit for therapy.” 

“You’re not going to make me talk?” 

“Not about anything you don’t want.” 

“But I’ll have to eventually, right?”

“Only if you’d like to fight with the team. If not then consider this a healing process, your line of work isn’t easy and will always have its losses - talking can help once you feel safe to open up the feelings that come along with it.” 

“I’m not,” She says, lifting her head and straightening her back. He nods, his fingers drumming the pen in his hand against his blank notebook paper. She wonders if Danvers has a therapist this nice, since she seems better.

Alcohol disappears from the fridge but there’s always empty, washed out bottles sitting by the sink to make up for it. She has her suspicions. 

“Okay. Well tell me about you, what do you like to do for fun? Or as a hobby?” 

Wanda doesn’t think watching Love Island for twelve hours straight counts, so she racks her brain for something else. Something acceptable.

“I read, and I was learning how to play the guitar, but I haven’t touched it in years. In fact I think it was destroyed.” Knows. There’s no way a wooden acoustic guitar survived the destruction.

“What’s stopping you from picking it up again?” 

“Honestly?” He nods and Wanda shrugs. “I don’t like leaving the house.” 

Adam lets out a laugh, hand rubbing at his beard as he nods. “Does anyone?” 

Wanda thinks she might like therapy. 

* * *

“Hey.” 

Wanda looks up from her place of spreading apple-butter over her toast and over to Carol, who’s plopping a green grape into her mouth. 

Sam and Bucky exchange looks behind her back, unknowing of their nighttime talks. 

Wanda greets her with a smile and turns back to her toast, not ready to stare at Carol in a baseball cap for too long. She doesn’t think it’s possible to cut herself with a butter knife but she’s _ definitely _not going to risk it. 

“What’re you making?” 

Wanda’s smile grows, of course she would remain undeterred by her unresponsive-ness.

“Toast and apple-butter,” She says, setting the knife across the top of the mason jar. “Would you like some?” 

“Depends,” Carol says and Wanda hums, wipes the crumbs from the counter with a paper towel. “Are you gonna make it for me?” 

“Can you ask nicely?” She asks, tilting her head to the side to cock an eyebrow at Carol. 

She blows air out of her mouth, a funny little noise accompanying the act, the hair not covered by the cap ruffling up. “I _ guess _ \- Wanda, would you please make me some toast? I’m hungry.” 

“There you go,” Wanda says, giving her a teasing smile before she moves her plate over and onto the top of the stove for more room. 

“Hill and Carter aren’t coming?” Carol asks, her voice laced with curiosity and Wanda wonders.

Wonders if that could ever be a possibility, Carol and Hill. They’re both pretty, have shared life experience, Wanda wonders why she cares. 

She’s not interested in Carol. There’s no way in hell she could ever allow that to happen. 

Besides, it wouldn’t work out. Carol’s a golden retriever and she’s like, a black cat. Horrible luck and all that - and why is she even thinking about if it would work between them or not? _ No _.

“They’ll be here later. It’s pizza night you know?” Sam asks, voice excited and happy. Wanda wonders how he can do this - be happy and hopeful and not entirely dead and worn down on the inside. “Why? You finally gonna ask Hill on a date?” 

Wanda scrapes the knife across the plate, ears grating at the sound, and listens to Carol clear her throat before she starts on the second piece of toast. It doesn’t matter, _ doesn’t matter at all _.

“Why would I ask her on a date?” 

Bucky and Sam both laugh, like it should be obvious, and some of the anger in Wanda’s gut cools. “C’mon, you’re telling me you don’t see the way she looks at you? Or how you look at her?”

“There is no _ way _. I’m not interested and I’m definitely not ready to start dating anyone again.” 

Wanda feels sweet relief and she clears her throat, battling away the dryness. “Your toast is done, Captain Danvers.” 

Sam and Bucky go back to talking about pizza and shouting at the football game on the television, and then Wanda is just _ warm _. Carol’s warmth, otherworldly and horribly safe. 

She’s laughing, breath brushing across Wanda’s neck, her hand rests on the other side of her hip, just below the counter. Her other hand is dangerously close to touching Wanda’s food and she feels a little lightheaded. Danvers is _ warm _ and smiling so hard her eyes and nose are scrunched up, the golden retriever look alike coming out for the world to see, for Wanda to stare at in wonder and what has to be anger. 

“Captain _ Danvers _?” She asks, one eyebrow cocked in Wanda’s direction, amusement shining clearly in her eyes. Eyes that are glowing, lighting up the curve of her nose and the planes of her cheeks, orange and dim underneath the shadow of the baseball cap. “I have a name.” 

Wanda scrunches up her nose and shrugs,”Eh, Captain Carol just sounds stupid. Not sorry.” 

“What’s with the light show?” Hill’s voice filters in through Wanda’s warm, pleasantly teasing bubble of Carol’s otherworldly cuteness. 

It fades immediately, Carol’s hand brushing against the small of her back, it sends pleasant shivers down her spine and she does a slight wiggle. Carol looks at her with something odd in her eyes and takes the plate out from in front of Wanda with skill, back of her hand brushing against Wanda’s wrist with more warmth.

“Thanks for the toast, darlin’” Carol murmurs and Wanda actually _ trembles _, legs shaking, unfamiliar heat spilling in between her legs. 

And _ fuck it _ , Carol Danvers is one of the most attractive women she’s ever seen. She wants to know what her abs look like when they’re not hidden by her tank tops, wants to suck on the tan skin of her neck and grind on her thigh and - _ no _.

She blinks, knees still shaky, and decides that she absolutely _ has _ to get away from Carol and all of her thigh hugging, grey sweatpants wearing and oh _ God _is that a bulge? Wanda’s throat goes dry and she looks away from Carol, hard eyeing her toast as she tries to block out these thoughts.

Wanda wonders what is says about her, to be attracted to Natasha’s new girlfriend. Wonders if it makes her a bad person for wanting to be held down against the wall with her fingers digging into the leather of Carol’s suit. _ Nope, no more. _

“You gonna stay for pizza, Maximoff?” Carol asks, cheeks bulging around a mouth full of food. She’s so fucking cute-hot-baby for Wanda to fully process her question and what it implies.

“Uhm, no, not tonight. I’m good with my toast.” 

“I’m gonna save you some.” 

“Carol, no that’s,” She trails off, shaking her head and staring down at her plate as she picks it up.

“_ Aha _ ! So you do know my name!” She sounds like a gleeful little child. Wanda has to get away from her and that cap and those _ sweats _ and those motherfucking _ arms _, yes she does. 

“Cantaloupe?”

“Fuck you,” Carol laughs, head falling back and giving Wanda a fascinating view of her neck, the curve of her jaw, sharp and mouthwatering. 

She’s so screwed. 

* * *

“-She’s so annoying!” Wanda groans, throwing her head back against the chair cushion and staring at the paneled ceiling of Adam’s office.

“But you like it?” He prompts, and Wanda sits up, blinking at him. “You know, Wanda, it isn’t a bad thing to feel this way, to feel interested in someone even if it’s just physical. And maybe she is your girlfriend's girlfriend, but that’s okay. You can’t control how you feel about someone.” 

“You know, I feel like Natasha would go ‘_ What do you mean, you’re both hot, I win _’ and I’d feel fine about the whole thing, but she’s not here and I don’t think I’m allowed to have feelings for Carol.”

“Why do you feel like you need to be allowed to have feelings for Carol?” 

“Because she was _ Natasha’s _ , I know Nat, she’d want Carol to be with someone good, someone _ lucky _. I’m neither of those things, you know? Everything I touch eventually starts to rot.” 

“And you don’t think you’re good?” 

“I’m definitely not. Billions of people died and it was my fault, if they knew that I don’t think they would care if I had been dusted as well. I was responsible, I had one job. Destroy the stone before he could get it and I _ did _ \- I did it and-“

Wanda’s cut off by her own sob and she buries her face in her hands, tries not to think about how relieved she had felt to be gone. How nice the orange of her void pocket had been. 

She wasn’t expecting this to be her unexpected outburst of the week. The last one had been about how all she wants to do is have Carol hold her again so that she can finally fucking _ rest _.

Adam is nice, respectful, going with her wishes of staying quiet and giving her space (something that had been _ very _hard, almost excruciatingly so, to voice while her lungs felt like fire.) and she feels awful for doing this to him all the time.

But now, four weeks in, Wanda feels a little more relieved after each session. Like a piece of her has floated away until it was nothing but light.

“I did it and he _ reversed time _,” Wanda all but snarls, her r’s slanting harshly with a long lost accent. She’s not fighting anymore, not spying anymore, so why not talk without shame?

Why should she have to hide? 

Nothing is a threat to her anymore. The wolves can come when they want, she will always fight right back. Something she can do without being an Avenger, or a world hated ‘vigilante.’ 

“That’s how we lost,” She says, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hands and taking a deep breath. Adam holds a box of tissues out to her and she takes it with a shy but grateful smile.

“What about the final battle?” Adam asks, shifting in his seat and raising an eyebrow at her. “Was he as powerful and doom filling then?” 

“No, he was _ afraid _. I could have killed him, that was my only motive. I didn’t want to save half the universe, I just wanted to be the one to rip out his heart and stop it with my bare hands.” 

“But you didn’t?” 

“_ No _,” She snarls, jaw clenching, heat flashing behind her eyes, the urge to just let the magic storm from her fingertips strong. “Tony beat me to it, and isn’t that some type of poetic justice?”

“Tony beat you to it,” Adam states, his pen tapping against his notebook. “How did that make you feel? That he saved everyone and you didn’t get to rip out his heart?” 

“Angry, I was so _ angry _,” Wanda says, and this time her fingers twitch, little red streaks swirling around her fingertips. The energy makes her feel alive, makes her heart go crazy in her chest. 

“Are you angry now?” 

“_ Yes _,” Wanda whispers, the small scented candle on Adam’s shelf shattering. She feels guilty immediately, Adam’s eyes are wide from his unchanged sitting position. She wonders if this man has any concern for his life at all. 

“I’m sorry, I can buy you a new one.” 

“Don’t worry about it, I got it at the Dollar Market. May I ask about the change in your voice?” 

“My accent?” She asks, and he nods. “Oh that, Natasha trained it out of me for safety, taught me hundreds of more along with it. This is my regular voice, if I get into danger it will be on me.” 

“How does it feel?”

“Like freedom,” Wanda says with a smile, leaning back against her chair again. The timer dings and Adam laughs, rises from his chair for the door.

“Well,” He says, watching her stand up. “Here’s to freedom then, hm?” 

Wanda smiles, adjusts her sweater as she walks into the hall. “Yeah. To freedom.” 

* * *

“You still watch this show, darlin’?” Carol says by way of greeting that night at three a.m. 

Wanda ignores the way her heart skips at the words, at the sight of Carol in a red crew neck sweater and light grey sweatpants, a teasing grin on her face and a twinkle in her eyes. 

“There’s a lot of seasons,” She says by way of explanation and Carol’s eyes shift into something darker, her tongue running along her bottom lip and making Wanda’s stomach clench with heat. 

“Have you always talked like that?” Carol asks, her body shifting forward, her bent knee resting against Wanda’s, voice rich with something that makes Wanda feel absolutely wrecked.

“Do you like it?” Wanda asks, avoiding the question that would cut through the warm, intoxicating energy around them if it had an answer. 

“Yeah, I do.” 

Wanda’s breath hitches in her throat and she looks away from Carol’s eyes, swears there’s just a slight bulge outlined by her sweats. It’s not there often, just some days where she leaves Wanda stumbling with her words, cheeks red. 

It’s almost as if she has feelings too. Wanda wants to find out, wants to finally suck a mark into that spot of skin where her jaw meets her neck. It would be heaven, especially if Carol’s fingers were buried inside of her, oh _ God _.

“Really?” She asks, voice soft and low. She looks up at Carol with a heavy gaze, thinking about how it’ll feel to finally have her mouth on hers. 

She wants it so bad. 

Carol leans forward more, fingers sliding into her hair, free hand coming to rest on Wanda’s partially covered knee. Her nightie is dark blue and softer than silk, Wanda’s favorite and what had been an anniversary gift from Natasha years ago. She watches as dark eyes fall down to the skin, watches Carol’s tongue lick her lips again. 

Wanda wants to kiss her. Wants to feel her body pressed up against her, strong and sturdy and safe. Wants to know what the shorter part of Carol’s hair feels like on her fingertips. 

So many wants. 

“Really,” Carol’s voice is breathy, her chest rising and falling as much as Wanda’s own. 

“Carol,” Wanda says, brings her hands up to her face and turns it towards her. “Carol-“ 

She’s cut off by warm lips and a strong hand on her hip, Carol’s kisses are perfect, Wanda feels like she’s going to burn from the inside out. 

She breaks the kiss and presses one to the corner of her mouth, teeth catching her bottom lip as a shy look fills her eyes. “Sorry, I should’ve asked.” 

Wanda huffs out a laugh and rests her head on the cushion, smiling as she strokes Carol’s cheek, fingers brushing through her velvet soft hair with every upstroke. “I was asking you to.” 

“Really?” Carol asks, resting her head next to Wanda’s, up so close that she can see the constellations of freckles scattered across her nose. 

“Really.” 

Carol’s eyes glow, almost too bright, and she leans in ever closer, nose brushing against Wanda’s and making her breathing quiver.

“So if I wanted to do it again?” 

“Oh,” Wanda breathes, a fuzzy feeling falling over her, Carol’s hand blissfully warm on her hip.

She wonders if her hands would burn through her nightie, she’d be absolutely heartbroken.

“Yeah,” She nods, giving Carol a smile and staring at her down her nose. “I’d like that.”

“Okay,” Carol says, grinning back at her and wiggling her fingers against her hip, making Wanda throw her head back and laugh. “Good,” is pressed against the skin of her neck and Wanda suddenly feels like she’s going to melt. 

“Want you to touch me, too. If you want,” Wanda decides, wants to know what Carol’s hands would feel like against her thighs, how their glow would fall over her face and hair while she was in-between her thighs. She would like to see it.

“Okay. Is this a special nightie?” Carol asks, pressing the words against her neck, the hand on her hip pressing her all the way against the couch. She hums in confirmation, her legs hooking around Carol’s hips and dragging her down against her body. Wanda gasps, hips arching at the way the bulge in Carol’s pants pushes against her. “You like that, girl?” 

“_ Yeah _,” Wanda sighs, breathless and leaning toward a whine. “And don’t melt it. I’ll cry.”

“I won’t,” Carol says, nipping at Wanda’s throat, a heavy sigh leaving her mouth as she arches up into her. Carol grinds down against her and Wanda’s hips jerk, a whine leaving her throat as she lets herself grind on Carol’s thigh. 

“You sure I can touch you, darlin’?” Carol asks, sucking a mark onto the curve of her shoulder, thumbs rubbing circles against her hips. 

Wanda trembles, eyes fluttering closed as she bucks up into Carol’s thigh again. “_ Please _.” 

“Okay. Tell me if it’s too much,” Carol says, pulling away from Wanda’s neck and making her huff. “You look so pretty, just wanna pounce all over you.”

“Please do,” Wanda huffs, tugging at Carol’s sweater and wriggling against her thigh. 

“Alright, bossy.” Wanda rolls her eyes, ready to retort, when Carol rubs two fingers against her panties, which are ruined and soaked. 

“All worked up already?” Carol says, almost like she’s thinking out loud, undeniably pleased.

“Feels good.” 

“I’m glad,” Carol says, rubbing against her again, fingers catching on her clit through her panties and making Wanda’s breath catch with a moan. 

“How’s that?” Carol asks, circles slow and lazy and making Wanda want to just do the job for her. She never liked being teased, not in bed. 

“Harder. Or take them off,” She says, opening her eyes and raising an eyebrow at Carol, who’s watching her with amusement. “_ Carol _.” 

“You know, I didn’t picture you as a brat. I don’t know why it never even crossed my mind.”

Wanda pouts, ignoring how similar those words sound like some of Natasha’s comments. 

“I’m not a brat, I just want you.”

“How long have you wanted me?” Carol asks, moving her hand away and to Wanda’s hips, bare hands achingly warm against her skin. 

“Honestly?”

“Mhm.”

“Five minutes.” 

Carol’s eyes flash and then she’s laughing, snapping the waistband of Wanda’s panties back against her skin, making her jump and smack at her shoulder. Wanda doesn’t want to seriously answer that question and it seems to work, because Carol leans in and kisses her before her laughter runs out and Wanda doesn’t think she’s ever been this breathless before. 

Her fingers tuck into her waistband, knuckles brushing against her belly, warm and weighted enough to make her tremble. Carol presses kisses to her jaw, her cheeks, the curve of her neck. She’s quite enthusiastic about it too, humming or nipping whenever she moves. 

It feels like forever by the time she finally pulls Wanda’s panties off her ankles and she sets them on the coffee table, information that will have her blushing in the future. 

“You ready pretty girl?” She asks, lips against the column of her throat. Wanda swallows at the words and nods, tugs Carol up and into a kiss. 

“Tell me.”

“_ Yes _,” Wanda sighs, holding back an eye roll at Carol’s grin of satisfaction. She tucks her face into Wanda’s neck and scrapes at the skin there with her teeth, her fingers running up her slit. 

“Oh baby,” Carol croons, making Wanda whimper as she bucks up into her fingers. 

“_ Please _,” Wanda begs, unable to handle anymore of her teasing. It’s what makes her cave, makes her turn into nothing but a messy and needy pile of goo until she gets what she wants. 

“Please what?” 

“Please fuck me,” Wanda huffs, watching the way Carol’s eyes go dark at the words. 

“How?” She asks, fingers pressing against her clit again, strokes at the same slow pace

“With your _ fingers _ ,” Wanda huffs, eyes falling closed as she arches into the pad of Carol’s fingers, wanting nothing more than to have them filling her up right now. “Please, Carol. _ Please _.” 

Carol hums, presses the tip of her middle finger against Wanda’s opening and she whines, hips jerking. She presses into her _ slow _ , curls her finger once she’s buried to the knuckle, and then works at a slow pace. It’s driving Wanda crazy, she wants more, _ needs _ more, and Carol’s happy as can be to suck on her neck all night long and take her god damned time. Wanda _ hates _it.

“More.” 

Carol laughs against her skin, breath warm across her neck. It makes gooseflesh flash across her skin, and then she’s sliding her finger out, the loss making Wanda shake. She’s slow again, the stretch nice and big, and if she had anything to compare it too, just like Natasha’s three fingers buried up inside of her. 

Wanda moans when she presses up with her fingers, hitting that spot that causes her thighs to shake and her back to arch up. Then her mouth is on the top of Wanda’s breasts and she’s nipping at her skin and her pace picks up, makes Wanda’s hips arch up to meet her strokes. 

She feels so _ good _, Wanda’s close to tears, her fingers scratching at the shorter part of Carol’s hair, which feels like heaven. She purposefully scratches harder when Carol’s pace slows, feels the way her breath hitches against her skin, and she ups the pace even further. 

“You want me to make you cum, sweet girl?” Carol asks, pressing the pad of her thumb against Wanda’s clit in tight, fast circles. 

“_ Please _,” Sne moans, arching into Carol’s hand, all matters of coherency leaving her mind as she whines beneath her, desperate to have those fingers curling against her spot again so she can finally let go. “Please make me cum, Carol.” 

“_ God _,” Carol groans, her fingers curling against Wanda’s spot with every thrust, thumb moving perfectly along with her fingers. “You’re taking me so well, girl. You feel so good around me, you know? That’s enough to reward you at all.” 

Wanda whines, and all it takes is Carol scraping her teeth along the column of her throat and then _ sucking _, to get Wanda to fall apart, fingers gripping Carol’s hair and the back of her neck hard. She helps her through it, presses kisses to her temple and strokes at her outer thigh with her free hand, going that unnatural type of warm. 

“So good for me, darlin’” Carol murmurs, fingers stilling inside of her, making Wanda feel sated and full for the time being. “So proud of you.”

Wanda whimpers, moves her face to tuck it into Carol’s shoulder, nose pressing against her sweater and making her inhale the smell of her cologne, something perfect and almost like pine.

“‘M gonna take ‘em out now,” Carol says, and Wanda trembles already at the loss. She nods into her neck and shudders, biting her lip to muffle the loud whimper that leaves her throat. 

Carol pulls away from her and Wanda opens her eyes, finds her cleaning off her fingers with an enthusiastic grunt, a glazed look in her eyes that makes Wanda wet all over again. 

“I knew you’d taste good.” 

“Did you now?” Wanda asks, raising an eyebrow and watching as Carol picks her panties up off the coffee table. She hums as she picks up one of her ankles, fingers glowing and making her tremble from the pleasant warmth washing over her body. 

“How does this make you feel?” Carol asks, warm knuckles brushing against Wanda’s calf as she slides her panties up her legs. 

“Good. You feel good,” She mumbles, a heavy sigh leaving her throat when Carol rests against her, entire body warm and heavy. “Just right.” 

“Yeah?” Carol asks, lips brushing against her skin but making no moves to press down and kiss. 

“Yeah. Thank you.”

“Any time, darlin.’ Any time.”

* * *

Wanda doesn’t know what to do with Carol keeping her promise of _ any time _. They make out like teenagers in movies sneaking around, the thrill of getting caught by Sam and Bucky outshining the way it would make her feel. 

She’s fucked her against the bathroom sink, against the front door, and against the fridge. 

And afterwards, Carol will hold Wanda until she falls asleep, singing songs in a soft, almost angelic sort of way. She’ll leave a snack on the end table and a bottle of water, a sticky note with a smiley face the only accompanying message.

It’s nice. 

But it’s also made being at Game Night so much harder. _ Everyone _, has come to this one - Scott, Hope, Hill, Pepper, Sharon, Sam, Bucky, and Peter. Not forgetting Carol, of course, who’s sipping on a bottle of Pepsi, who’d said no to beer with a heavy look in her eyes that only Wanda seemed to actually notice. 

She’s still feeling proud, had wanted to lean in and grab her by the collar of her flannel and press a kiss to her lips. Which is also what she’s currently struggling with, because Carol in a blue green flannel and nice, white washed skinny jeans is really messing with her heart. 

“Danvers?” She asks, cutting her off mid sentence, Hill shooting her odd look. 

“Yes?” 

“Could you pass me the Doritos?” She asks, tilting her head and nodding down toward the family size bag that Carol’s been munching on for the past ten minutes. Wanda’s heart can't take much more of her happy, puppy dog like eyes. 

“Sure,” Carol says, giving her a smile and handing over the bag, knuckles brushing against the side of her hand. 

“Thank you,” She says, catching her bottom lip with her teeth and flicking her eyebrow up to get Carol to catch on to her silently asked question. 

“_ Any time _,” Carol says, giving Wanda a heavy look before she turns back to Maria, bringing the bottle of Pepsi to her lips for a heavy chug. 

Wanda fucking hates her. 

* * *

“You’re proud of yourself, aren’t you,” Carol huffs, kicking the bathroom door shut as she lifts Wanda up onto the bathroom sink. Her back presses against the mirror and the bar of soap falls off, container breaking against the ground when she grinds her hips against Carol’s thigh. 

She lets out a satisfied hum as an answer and hears the door lock in return, Carol’s hands pawing at her hips before she brings them to the hem of Wanda’s sweater and lifts. 

She drops it to the floor and licks her lips, eyes falling to Wanda’s chest, turning dark and hungry.

“This is a nice bra.” 

“Yeah?” She asks, looking down at the grey material with black silk at the top. 

“Yeah,” Carol says, tucking her head down and kissing the top of her right breast. “I like it.”

“Cool,” She says, head falling back at the friction of Carol’s jeans pressing against her own. 

“What’s got you so worked up tonight, hm?” 

“Honestly?” Wanda asks and Carol nods, hair ruffled up from the cap being knocked off. “You just look really fucking good in a flannel, and I like the little hoop in your ear, it’s cute.” 

“Well, your ass looks really good in these jeans,” Carol says, unbuttoning said jeans. “And I like the way you did your hair, with the twist bun thing in the back, I never could learn how you got half of it to stay down instead of all of it going up.”

“So you learned how to tie a messy bun?” Wanda asks, raising an eyebrow and laughing when Carol rolls her eyes. She presses a kiss to her lips, something so short and sweet that it almost feels casual. Like it was just second nature. 

“Yes, little brat. I learned how to tie a messy bun.” 

“I’m _ not _ a brat,” Wanda pouts, tugging at Carol’s collar, trying not to think too hard about the way the blue-green plaid just goes _ so _well with her eyes and her face and her big strong shoulders. 

“Right, you just want me.” 

“Yes, I do,” Wanda says, giving a short nod in return. Carol smiles down at her, eyes scrunched up and oh _ God _, why is she such a damn puppy?

“Can I tell you what I want?” Carol asks, her hands a heavy comfort on Wanda’s sides. 

“Hm?” 

“I want you to get down on your knees and give me some head. How do you feel about that?” 

“Really?” Wanda asks, breath picking up in her chest at the idea of getting to touch Carol. 

To make her feel good.

“Yep,” Carol nods, fingers undoing her belt buckle, the noise sending shivers down Wanda’s spine. She doesn’t take it off of her jeans, just unbuttons her pants and slides them down, a pair of red boxers coming to view, along with a strong, meaty thigh that makes Wanda’s mouth water. “C’mon now, girl. Gotta be quick.” 

Wanda gets off the counter and onto her knees, watches as Carol leans against the wall and stares down at her. Wanda brings her hands to Carol’s hips, feels the way her stomach flexes against her fingers. “How do you like it?” 

Surprise flickers in Carol’s eyes, like she wasn’t expecting Wanda to ask. It’s one of the first things Wanda had learned about sex, Natasha had a lot of boundaries. Some went away and some didn’t, probably never would, and Wanda was perfectly fine with respecting them. 

“Don’t go in.” 

Wanda nods, tongue darting out against her bottom lip as she tugs Carol’s boxers down her legs. Carol spreads her legs until she can’t stretch her jeans and Wanda looks up at her, lets her hands run over the pale, untanned skin of her thigh. It flexes underneath her fingers and she trembles, mouth all but watering by the time Carol puts a steady hand in her hair and leans her forward. Wanda doesn’t waste much time then, carefully avoids Carol’s entrance when she licks at her with her tongue. Carol hums when she puts pressure down on her clit, and then Wanda’s wrapping her lips around it, delighting in the way Carol groans, grip tightening in her hair. 

“So good, girl. So _ good _,” Carol breathes, chest rising rapidly. Wanda hums around her clit and circles it with her tongue, fast paced and light. 

It makes Carol’s thighs jerk beneath her hands, muscles tight. Wanda drags her nails down them and scrapes lightly at Carol’s nub with her teeth and then her head is falling back, Wanda’s thighs jerking at the curve of her jaw and the way her lips part as she cums. Wanda made her _ cum _.

Carol brushes her fingers across her cheek and Wanda gets up from her knees so that she can pull up her pants. She’s wet and aching but she _ knows _ she’s not going to get touched right now, or maybe even at all tonight, and it _ sucks _. 

Carol leans forward and kisses her, full and sweet. Then she’s picking up her cap and leaving Wanda alone in the bathroom, breathing heavily. 

* * *

**Danvers [2:45 a.m] : ** _ No couch tonight? :,( _

Wanda’s still trying to figure out what to say, has been grinning like an idiot for ... a whole _ ten minutes _ since she got Carol’s message, and looks at the empty side of her bed with a sigh.

**Wanda [2:57 a.m] : ** _ You could come up here _

**Danvers [2:57 a.m] : ** _ Might not keep my hands to myself, darlin. _

**Wanda [2:58 a.m] : ** _ Do you ever? _

**Danvers [2:58 a.m] : ** _ :P _

Wanda rolls her eyes, wonders why Carol wouldn’t just use an emoji, and then sets her phone back down on the nightstand. She feels odd tucking Natasha’s sleep shirt underneath her pillow, feels the sudden need to cry in a way that makes her chest feel white hot and painful. 

This isn’t their bed. It’s just hers, new and ridiculously comfortable and just so _ lonely. _

Even when they were apart, Wanda always had her. Always took the risk of being found by Tony just so she could fall asleep next to her. 

It’s what makes sleeping so hard, and now, she’s beginning to want Carol’s warmth wrapped around her far more than she should at night time. She’s a grown adult, she can sleep on her own. 

There’s a light tap on her door before Carol opens it, the light of her phone flashing in the dark before she shuts it off. Wanda waits for her to get into bed, can make out the fact that Carol’s wearing nothing but a sports bra and sweats and it’s just not fucking _ fair _. She’s the actual brat.

“Hi,” Carol says, sliding under the covers, a goofy grin on her face as she stares at Wanda. 

“Hi.”

“Nice digs.”

“You can’t even _ see _,” Wanda says, rolling her eyes. Carol’s laugh is loud and then she’s bending her arm back and turning the lamp on. 

“What were you saying?” 

“You’re an _ ass _,” Wanda huffs, shoving at her side, and it’s just not fair. Carol’s hips have the faintest hint of a v-line, stomach toned, abs flexing underneath Wanda’s gaze. 

“You know, darlin’ - my eyes? They’re up here.” 

“Fuck you,” Wanda says, rolling her eyes and rolling over onto her side, cheeks burning. 

“Wouldn’t you like that?” The words are pressed against the curve of her neck, Carol’s body pressing against her back, and oh _ God _, there’s that bulge again, pressing against the back of Wanda’s thigh and making her feel hot all over.

“No comment,” She grumbles, Carol’s arm weighted and familiar and _ warm _. She feels the way her chest rumbles against her back as she laughs more than she actually hears it. 

It’s fucking overwhelming. 

Wanda knows why Natasha couldn’t help but fall for her, is scared that she might do the same thing, and then the world would have to watch as Carol’s light eventually got snuffed out. 

“Hey now,” Carol says, breath hitting her cheek, and Wanda sniffles, finally aware of her tears. “What’s this all about, doll? You okay?” 

Wanda shakes her head and turns to bury her face in Carol’s chest, crying against her warm skin, the grip she has on her hip going tight. 

“Okay. I’ve got you,” Carol murmurs, arms folding around her, heated and with the perfect amount of pressure. Wanda feels safe and snug and it only serves to make her cry harder, she doesn’t deserve any of this. Not these feelings and certainly not for Carol to return them. 

Or maybe she doesn’t, maybe Wanda’s safe and they’ll keep being half-friends that fuck sometimes. She knows that it’s a stupid hope to have, already feels the way her mind searches for Carol’s presence when the facility is a little too quiet. How her heart crumbles when she’s gone.

All signs that she’s begun to care, which isn’t safe for Carol, who held off Thanos with nothing but her bare hands. Wanda knows she could have finished him off, just fucking _ knows _. 

“Why’re you thinkin’ about that, hm?” Carol asks, cupping Wanda’s face in her hands and meeting her eyes. Hers are soft, looking like chocolate because of the light that’s coming off her neck. 

“We won, people are so glad to be alive that there hasn’t been any activity _ anywhere _.” 

“I _ shouldn’t _be,” Wanda says, voice cracking as she cries. Something dark flashes in Carol’s gaze before she’s being held even tighter, gentle fingers stroking through her hair. “I shouldn’t-“

“Why? Why shouldn’t you be?”

“Everything I touch dies, Danvers. _ Everything _.” 

“I’m not dead, you’re touching me right now.” 

“Not dead _ yet _,” Wanda corrects, her fingers twisting inside the spandex like fabric of Carol’s sports bra. “But one day it’ll happen and it’ll be my fault. It always is.”

“You know, in the beginning, Natasha would’ve killed anything or anyone to bring you back? Just _ you _ , the only thing we talked about for awhile. She loved you with her entire soul, Wanda. Still did, even if it was split between us. She told me you were beautiful and strong and _ brilliant _, and nothing you’ve done has proved her wrong.” 

“And yeah, you’ve made mistakes, you’ve lost people, but we _ all _ have. It’s the price we pay when we choose to take what we’re given and use it to serve the greater good. You deserve to be here, you deserve to be alive, but not just to suffer - to _ live _. To have a life, whether it’s being a superhero or not. You deserve it, always.” 

“I don’t know how to live without it,” Wanda says, body trembling as she cries. She aches for Natasha, wishes that the universe had been fair, or just even kind enough to let her have the both of them at the same time. She’d never be that lucky, there’s just no way in hell. 

“Well,” Carol says, cupping her face again, thumbs gentle and calloused against her cheeks as she wipes away her tears. “Maybe I can help.”

* * *

“So you’ve made a friend?” Adam asks, after Wanda describes (in as little detail for most parts) her recent developments with Carol after missing two sessions just because she didn’t want to leave her bed. More like couldn’t, or she’d cry. 

Wanda wonders if that’s like, a depression thing.

If she even _ has _depression. Whatever she’s got isn’t nice and she can’t just keep bursting into tears every time Carol so much as grabs her hand because she can’t see that dark look in those eyes again. She just fucking can’t. 

So she’s here, in therapy, wondering if Carol will be back from her going on four day trip to Louisiana. Wanda thinks she’s being greedy, of course Carol has the right to go and see the people she cares about instead of getting stuck in a house with an emotional wreck. 

“Is that what I’d call her?” 

“If you want,” Adam shrugs, and Wanda sighs, feeling the word _ friend _will never fit Carol.

“I told her that I shouldn’t be here.” 

“What’d she say?” 

“She said that I deserve to be alive for more than just suffering,” Wanda scoffs at the thought, eyes stinging. “Which is the one familiar thing in my life. I’m used to suffering, even if I’m happy.” 

“But you feel happiness?” 

“Not much,” She shrugs, looking down at her lap, fingers wrapping a loose thread from her hoodie around them. It’s teal blue and soft, a gift from Steve for the first birthday she’d had with them. 

She’d been surprised to be delivered boxes of old clothes once the facility had been rebuilt, there was nothing more than _ it’s from Mrs. Potts. _said to her from the delivery men. 

Tony kept her stuff. She still doesn’t know how to feel about that, knows it’s too late to ever try and form a bond that wasn’t insults hidden by sarcasm. She’d never been able to see why everyone simply adored him, without question, without _ fault _. Natasha had taken his side without hesitation, had been the one to put a line between them during the Accords. 

Wanda wishes more than anything she would’ve just agreed. They’d made up eventually but some of that bitterness, that feeling of betrayal, it was still an issue during the snap. 

“Do you think about not being here often?”

Wanda nods, biting down hard on the inside of her cheek so that she doesn’t cry. She tastes blood, salty and metallic, but ignores it. 

“Daily?” 

Wanda clears her throat, cheek tingling, her magic already healing as she nods. “Yeah.” 

“Do you want to do something to make those thoughts come true?” He asks, and Wanda feels sick. She knows she shouldn’t be here, that she doesn’t _ want _to be, but she doesn’t think she could ever do something about it. The thought of what kind of pain she would have to put herself through for it to even be lethal is enough to make her body shake, knee bouncing up and down. 

“No. No I don’t think I could.”

“If you do get to that point,” Adam moves, spins his chair around and then faces her again with an index card in his hand. “This has my personal number, you can call and we can talk. It doesn’t matter what time it is, I’ll answer. Okay?”

Wanda nods, takes the card from him with a heavy feeling in her throat. The timer dings but it doesn’t feel like she’s talked for an hour. 

She’s ready to go home, she feels exhausted and wants nothing more than to crawl into her nest of a bed and watch Love Island until Carol comes back home. What a wonderful life she lives, maybe she should like, get a salad or something first. The thought sends a flash of anxiety through her body as she stands, so maybe not. One day though, one day. 

“Wanda?” 

“Yeah?” She asks, turning her head to look at Adam over her shoulder. He’s got a serious look in his eyes, one that seems so out of place. 

“You’re never alone. I promise.” 

She nods, eyes going blurry with tears, and continues her walk down the hall. 

* * *

Wanda wakes up to warm hands on her left shoulder and arm, gentle in their shaking. 

Carol’s been gone for two weeks, dropped off the grid and is now standing above her bed in her suit, an almost guilty look in her eyes when she greets Wanda with a small smile. 

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m back.” 

“You’re in your suit,” Wanda mumbles, body stretching as she stares at Carol. “Fighting?” 

“In space. The galaxy never sleeps, you know?”

Wanda lets out a little noise and shakes her head, feeling ready to reach out with grabby hands and pull Carol’s glowing ass on top of her. 

She looks so good in that suit and Wanda just - well, she might’ve missed her. Just a little bit.

“I would’ve texted but I got the call and left all my stuff-“

“It’s fine. I’m just glad you’re safe,” Wanda says, giving her a reassuring smile. Then she does reach out, Carol’s hand almost painfully hot as she gives it a squeeze. “Come cuddle?” 

“In my suit? It’s got alien blood on it.”

“I’ve dealt with worse,” She counters, and Carol’s lips quirk into a grin, eyes bright with amusement. “But if you want to take the suit _ off _-“

“Shut up,” Carol laughs, cutting her off and making her smile. She bends down and takes her boots off, suit hugging her arms tight. 

Wanda’s got a feeling her _ get fucked while Carol’s in the suit _itch might get scratched. 

Carol doesn’t even bother laying down on the other side, just flops down on top of Wanda and buries her face into her neck, a satisfied hum leaving her mouth as she inhales. 

“You smell good.” 

“It’s this thing called soap,” Wanda deadpans, her fingers running up the back of Carol’s suit, not caring about any alien germs because the feeling of warm leather just _ ignites _her. 

“You’re the one who wanted to cuddle.” 

“I’m not saying that you smell,” Wanda laughs, resting one of her hands on the nape of Carol’s neck, hair soft underneath her fingertips. 

She doesn’t smell, either, maybe a little like sweat and something smoky, but not bad. 

Not like nasty alien goo. 

“Not too hot, right?” Carol asks when Wanda splays her other hand on the small of her back, she gives her ass a pinch in response. “_ Ow _!”

“You didn’t even feel it,” Wanda laughs, rolling her eyes as Carol pinches her side. “_ Hey _.” 

“That’s what I thought, brat,” Carol huffs, just against the curve of her shoulder, and Wanda shivers underneath her. “What, no protest?”

“Not tonight.”

Carol lifts her head up, eyebrows quirked in her direction, a knowing grin sliding across her face.

“Is there something you want, sweet girl?” 

Wanda blushes, stares up at the ceiling instead of Carol’s eyes. She puffs up her cheeks and then exhales a quiet _ maybe _. She doesn’t think she’s quite ready enough to ask Carol to pound her into the mattress while staying in her suit. 

“If you tell me I can help.” 

“I just want you to touch me.” 

“I am touching you. See?” Carol pinches her again and Wanda brings her hand further down, let’s it rest on the curve of Carol’s ass before she lifts and smacks the same spot. 

“_ Shut up _.” 

“Someone’s handsy tonight,” Carol says, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth before she sits up. “Might just have to do something about that, hm? What do you think?” 

“Gonna tie me up?” Wanda asks, a thrill running up her spine. It’s been so long since she’s felt ropes against her skin that she almost forgets about the suit and her wishes all together. 

_ Almost _. 

“Or hold you down. Can you give me a minute?”

Wanda nods, excited and hot all over, and Carol gives her hand a gentle squeeze before she’s standing up from the bed. She leaves the room moments later and then it hits her. They’ve never actually fucked in a bed. She doesn’t know if it makes a difference or not, but there’s only so much to do on a couch or a wall or a sink.

Carol comes back moments later and Wanda _ shakes _at the sight of her strap. It’s somehow staying attached to her suit and she’s got one hand on it, stroking with ease, fingers shiny. 

Wanda thinks it might be from lube, her thighs shifting together at the thought and she just - Carol’s so fucking handsome, it’s almost embarrassing how close Wanda is from just _ looking _at her. All because of the suit. 

“Somethin’ you like?”

“_ Yeah _,” Wanda breathes, trying to keep herself from wiggling around. It’s hard when Carol’s just standing there, strokes still slow and easy. 

“Bet you’ll look pretty, moanin’ underneath me while you take my cock. What do you think?” 

“_ Yes _,” Wanda pants, hips jerking. She feels herself clench around nothing, feels how sloppy and wet she already is. “God, please, Carol.” 

“Okay, sweet girl. Okay.” 

Carol moves the blankets down from her hips and settles in-between her legs after spreading them apart. She leans in and kisses Wanda, firm and gentle, just like her hands that rest underneath her shirt. She wants them _ everywhere _, so bad that she’s ready to beg. 

“Can I take this off?” 

“You don’t need to ask,” Wanda says, giving Carol a reassuring smile as she sits up for her.

“Yes,” Carol murmurs, knuckles brushing along Wanda’s sides as she lifts the shirt. “Yes I do.” 

Wanda’s noticed that Carol likes having permission and that when she forgets to ask, she always ends up apologizing for it. Like the first and only time Wanda’s given her head and she took her shirt off, it’d been a little awkward. 

Mostly because Wanda had been kind of _ busy _, before Carol had come knocking on her door.

“I want you to touch me, handsome. Whenever you want,” She says, lifting her arms for Carol to drop her shirt to the floor. Carol’s fingers twitch against her ribs, moving until her thumbs are _ just _barely brushing the undersides of her breasts.

“You think I’m handsome?” Carol asks, and it comes out almost shy, her eyes unsure as they stare up at Wanda. That’s when she realizes that maybe Carol needs this too, wants it just as bad, to feel close to someone, to have a safe place.

Wanda, for all her mixed up feelings about this whole thing, will do her best to be that for her.

“Very much,” Wanda murmurs, lifting one of her hands to Carol’s hair, scratching gently at her scalp with her fingers. Carol’s fingers _ tremble _, her lips parting slightly, and Wanda thinks she looks close to tears. “Especially in the suit.” 

“Oh yeah,” Carol snorts, shaking her head and giving Wanda a smile. “Girl’s dig the suit.” 

“Do you want to feel how much?” Wanda asks, raising an eyebrow at her, although she feels less close than before. She might be able to hold out for the main event if she stays under control.

“Clever.” 

“I try,” Wanda says, letting out an over dramatic sigh. Carol chuckles and then ducks her head down, lips warm and hot against the bare skin of Wanda’s right breast. Her fingers twitch again and Wanda jerks her hips up in annoyance.

“Please just touch me.”

“‘M takin’ my time.” 

“Of course,” Wanda huffs, stomach tightening when Carol’s tongue swirls over her nipple. She lets out a whimper when that mouth wraps around it, tongue flicking bold strokes that make it feel like little sparks are raining over her skin.

One of Carol’s hands takes her own and rests it on the pillows above her head, long fingers entangling with her own. She hums against Wanda’s nipple, other hand trailing down over her side, to her thigh, and then they’re teasing Wanda through the fabric again. 

They’re warm too, Wanda’s eyelids being flooded with light. She tilts her head, lips blindly kissing at Carol’s wrist, which is practically scorching. 

“Not too much?” 

“_ No _,” Wanda keens, Carol’s fingers pressing against her clit, teasing and full of pressure. 

“My fingers are soaked already, girl,” Carol says, and then said fingers are resting against Wanda’s mouth, her nose being filled with her scent. She doesn’t even hesitate, just licks out with her tongue and meets Carol’s dark eyes with her own. “Do you always get this wet?” 

“I just want your cock,” Wanda says, voice dark, accent thick. Carol let’s out something on par with a growl and presses her fingertips into Wanda’s mouth. She responds with a happy little sigh, eyes falling closed at the comforting weight.

“What if I don’t give it to you?” 

Wanda opens her eyes and glares, lets Carol’s fingers slip out of her mouth where they leave sticky saliva across her cheek. “Don’t be mean.”

“Eating you out instead would be mean?” Carol asks, head tilting to the side, and again with the puppy dog looks. Wanda can’t stand her. 

“Can’t you do both?” 

“Can you handle both?” 

Wanda nods enthusiastically and Carol chuckles, presses a kiss to her mouth and then shifts back on her knees. She gets Wanda’s panties off faster this time, throws them off to the side, and then she kind of just _ stares _. It’s both similar and completely different to how Natasha would look at her in bed, gaze filled with hunger and awe. 

It makes her heart start gunning inside of her chest, she’s never been too comfortable with being looked at like this while naked. The urge to hide is making itself known in the way her fingertips itch and she wriggles, gives Carol’s hand a pinch with her fingers. 

“_ Really _?” Carol asks, one eyebrow raised.

Wanda just shrugs and lets her thighs fall apart a little more, watches as Carol looks down immediately. Wanda’s almost certain she’s going to settle between her legs, but instead she leans back up and kisses her until her head spins. 

They only part when Wanda gasps, the feeling of Carol’s fingers inside of her, thrusting fast and hard, makes her feel like she’s out of breath. 

She thinks she might’ve lied about handling it.

“Feel so good around me,” Carol murmurs, words muffled by the skin of Wanda’s neck. 

All she can do is moan in response, thighs trembling as her back arches. She’s so _ close _ and Carol’s fingers keep hitting her spot with every stroke and she’s not going to last, she’s _ not _-

Carol pulls out of her and Wanda whimpers, tears forming behind her eyelids and making her feel even more like the desperate mess that she is. 

“I know, baby.” Carol croons the words out, voice soft and gentle, and then the head of her cock is pressing against Wanda’s entrance. The rest of the head slides in and Wanda feels the stretch with a pleasant burn, aching for more. 

“I’ve got you. I’m gonna make you feel real good, I promise. Just gotta gimme a minute.” 

Wanda nods, a whine leaving her throat when Carol inches it in more. She squeezes down hard on the hand in her own, the other coming to rest on the leather of Carol’s suit and grip harshly. 

It feels like forever until she’s finally bottomed out, her suit pressing against Wanda’s hips, and then she starts thrusting, low and perfect. 

Wanda can’t help but untangle their hands so that she can wrap her legs and arms around Carol and tug her close. It makes her feel even more full and she buries her cries into Carol’s shoulder, feeling the way her climax starts to rise up in her body. It only gets better when Carol’s thrusts become fast and hard, hips meeting Wanda’s own, and there’s nothing but the sound of her moans and Carol’s grunts and the way her pussy sounds when she bottoms out again. 

“Gonna cum for me, darlin?”

“_ Yeah _ ,” Wanda moans, head falling back, Carol’s hand holding it up as she settles back onto her knees. The change in position is all it takes for Wanda to cum, her face buried in Carol’s shoulders, fingers aching from her grip on the leather of her suit. Her whole body is tingling and her brain feels like goo and _ Jesus _, Carol knows what she's doing. 

She can’t remember the last time she came this hard. 

“You okay?” Carol asks, lips brushing against her cheek. Her hands are on Wanda’s back, one resting on the small of it, the other stroking her spine, warm and soothing. She feels sleepy.

“Mhm,” She grunts, grip going slack on Carol’s suit as she lets herself slump. 

“Wanna take a shower with me?” 

Wanda nods again, not wanting to move from Carol’s arms, and then she’s being lifted up, Carol’s cock slipping out of her. She whimpers at the loss, hips jerking up against Carol’s stomach.

“Glad it’s just us,” Carol says, sitting a reluctant Wanda down onto the toilet seat. It makes her shiver, the air in her bathroom chilly. “I don’t imagine the boys would’ve liked hearing that.”

“Definitely not,” Wanda grumbles, leaning against the wall and watching as Carol turns the shower on, the top of her suit hanging around her waist.

Wanda hates that she’s so fucking gorgeous.

“Are you bein’ grumpy?” Carol asks, a teasing grin on her face as she steps out of her suit. 

Wanda doesn’t do anything but narrow her eyes and pout, reaching one hand out with grabby motions. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Carol chuckles, and Wanda really, cannot fucking stand her.

Then she’s watching as Carol fights with her sports bra, making these little grunting sounds that really shouldn’t be attractive but _ are _, and then it falls to the ground and Wanda can’t help but stare at her. Mostly at the lone little mole on the inside curve of her right breast. It’s cute.

“Could you maybe, not?” Carol asks, her arms folding across her chest. Wanda blinks out of her sleepy haze, feels awful for staring at her when she knows Carol’s not comfortable with her body.

“I’m sorry. Your mole, it’s just cute.” 

“Think so?” 

“Know so,” Wanda responds, a short and sure nod accompanying the words. Carol laughs and Wanda focuses on the steamed up glass of the shower doors when she takes her boxers off.

Moments later and she’s being lifted, a tiny squeak leaving her mouth and being cut off by Carol’s lips. 

The warmth of the shower is nothing compared to Carol’s, but Wanda likes it just the same. 

* * *

Wanda’s beginning to realize that keeping her hands to herself is harder than she thought. 

See, lately she’s been having nothing but random urges to hold Carol’s hand, or kiss her, or run her fingers through her hair, urges to _ touch _.

And it’s always when they’re with people. Like now, on another pizza/game night. She’s here because Carol is, doesn’t want to unpack the fact that simply being _ near _her is a comfort of its own.

So she’s here, twisting her straw around in her cup and watching the messy but cute way Carol catches the melted cheese from her pizza around her finger before it can splatter on the table. There’s sauce on the corner of her lip and she just looks so _ precious _, Wanda wants to kiss her. That’s it, all she’s wanting is one kiss.

Getting that kiss as soon as possible sounds like a great idea, the effort she’d have to put into getting it? Not so much. 

“So, Wanda,” Maria starts, and she blinks out of her daze. “Sam said you’re going to therapy?”

Sam’s making a no motion towards Hill, all Wanda can do is sigh and try not to roll her eyes.

She really doesn’t want to be the topic of conversation, especially with these people she’s somehow become stuck sharing company with.

“Not for fighting.”

“Wait so like, you’re not an Avenger anymore?” Peter asks, his head tilted to the side. He looks like a confused puppy, the sight makes Wanda even more angry that they’ve got a kid on the team. He’s too young to have gone through this.

“Hey, no,” Carol says, reaching for another slice of pizza. “She’ll always be an Avenger.”

“You can’t be an Avenger and _ not _ fight.”

“And you shouldn’t be fighting at all, but that’s besides the point, isn’t it?” She asks, standing up from her chair and picking up her glass. She wonders if they replaced the whiskey that was in the bar. “None of you should be okay with this. He’s _ seventeen _ and he knows what dying is like.”

“Pretty sure most of us here do.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Wanda asks, shaking her head at Bucky who simply blinks at her with a shrug right back. And that’s right, why would he ever tell Peter he didn’t need to help anymore?

Spider-Man is the one who keeps the city safe.

A _ seventeen _year old keeps the city safe. 

Wanda hates that it’s become his responsibility, anybody else could be doing it but they’ve let him. Someone young, someone who shouldn’t know what it’s like to be broken and hollow. 

“I’m going to bed.”

She heads towards the stairs then, already looking forward to crawling into bed. One of the chairs scrapes against the floor and she’s just reached the first step when a hand hooks around her arm. She turns to find Carol, watching her with a semi-worried expression, lip between her teeth. Wanda hates that it makes her feel warm.

“C’mon, darlin. You don’t have to leave.” 

“I - they’re _ okay _ with it Danvers. Okay with letting a _ seventeen _year old be responsible for the city.”

“It’s not ideal, but I’d say he knows the consequences by now,” Carol says, and Wanda scoffs, tugs her arm away. “_ Hey _,” She goes for her hand this time and Wanda sighs. “If anything worse than bank robberies and beating up thugs comes along, I’ll be there to help him. Okay?”

“Okay,” Wanda nods, feeling the urge to cry. She doesn’t know what’s coming over her, or why she’s getting so upset about this. On a normal day she _ likes _having Peter around. He’s nice.

“You good? Need some space?”

“_ Yeah _,” Wanda says, lips quivering, throat going tight. She’s going to cry if she doesn’t get away from Carol in the next fifteen seconds.

Which doesn’t seem to be happening because Carol’s got her wrapped up close and tight within the next couple of seconds. Her chin rests on top of Wanda’s head, hands squeezing her hips.

“You don’t need to lie to me about being upset, doll. If I know what’s wrong then I can at least try and help you out a little bit, make you feel better.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” Wanda says, tears hot on her cheeks. Her hands clutch at Carol’s shirt with a tight grip, body trembling as she tries to keep it together. “I just - I don’t want his life to be taken from him, you know? Not like mine.”

“You want him to have it normal and easy because you didn’t have that, hm?” Wanda nods, snuggles her face deeper into Carol’s chest. “And you’re upset that he’s choosing to have it rough?”

She nods again, not surprised that Carol would be able to figure out what was wrong. That she’s not upset about Peter, per say, but that she never got to have high school or hang out with friends or go to parties and it’s a stupid thing to cry over.

She knows that. She does. It just sucks. 

“Well that’s okay.”

“It’s _ stupid _,” Wanda grumbles, grip easing on Carol’s shirt. She’s not ready to move just yet, just wants to stay where she’s at for a while.

“Nothin’ you feel is stupid, Maximoff. Not one thing.” The words brush against her forehead, sincere and more gentle than Carol ever is.

“I have a name you know,” Wanda huffs, repeating Carol’s own words back to her. 

“I know,” Carol’s chest rumbles as she chuckles and it makes Wanda feel settled again. “But we aren’t there yet, are we darlin?”

Wanda tilts her body back and gives Carol a smile as she shakes her head. “Not yet.” 

“One day?” Carol asks, leaning her head down, closer to Wanda’s space. She might get that kiss right now, with everyone just a room over.

“If you want.” 

“Do you?” Carol counters, raising an eyebrow at her. It’s ridiculous how sexy Wanda finds her.

“I think so,” She murmurs, Carol’s lips pressing down on hers as soon as the words leave her mouth. Her lips are warm and confident and _ always _make Wanda’s knees shake and she’s helpless to do anything but melt and kiss back.

* * *

Wanda feels ridiculously nervous. Mostly because she’s never the one that comes and knocks on Carol’s door, but she’s been uncharacteristically reclusive for the past week.

Adam’s advice had been to reach out instead of being stubborn and _ also _shutting herself away, so she’s trying. It’s a lot harder than it sounds after feeling drained by a ten minute conversation with Sam and Bucky, along with her therapy session.

But still. Carol’s there when she can’t get out of bed, she’s there when Wanda can’t stop crying, always there. Always reaching out first. 

Maybe it’s just fair that she does the same.

So, with her lip between her teeth and slightly shaking knuckles, she brings her hand up to Carol’s door and knocks three times. 

“Danvers?” 

There’s no response. Wanda knows she’s there though, there’s been a shift in her mental energy - she’s also refusing to unpack the fact that she can _ feel _Carol’s presence like a warm, unreachable - at the moment - lifeline. 

She’s bright and powerful and _ loud _ where Natasha’s had been weary with a gentle type of deadliness that had become her greatest comfort. She misses that too, it’d been the one thing to keep her sane when they’d fight and take some space away from each other. 

“Danvers, I know you’re in there. I’m not going to make you talk, I just want you to know that I’m here, okay? If you need anything.” 

The door swings open a few moments after that, Wanda just about ready to come back tomorrow. Carol’s eyes are red rimmed and glossy, cheeks flushed and damp. Her sweater is wrinkled and big on her body, sweatpants just as baggy. 

Wanda wants to give her a hug.

“Hi,” Carol croaks, voice rough as she wipes her eyes with the back of her hands and sniffles.

“Hi,” Wanda says softly, unsure of how to go about this whole thing. Carol’s better at leading.

“You look pretty.” 

Wanda blushes, looks down at the ground, Carol’s socks are neon pink, startling bright compared to Wanda’s black high tops. 

“Uhm - do you want me to come in or-“

Carol moves out of the doorway as an answer and Wanda steps into her room, eyes catching on an ABBA poster that makes her smile.

She’s got good taste.

There’s a pack of cigarettes on the nightstand that Carol reaches for and she lights it inside, the smell filling the room and tickling Wanda’s nose before she goes to sit on the windowsill.

“Are superheroes allowed to smoke?” Wanda asks, trying to lighten the heavy air around them. 

Carol chuckles, it sounds tired and half hearted and Wanda just wants to cheer her up. She sits awkwardly on her messy bed and undoes the laces of her high tops before taking them off. 

“She hated it, y’know? I stopped doing it unless I was stressed, which was bad, ‘cause then I started drinking casually again and controlling that is _ hard _. It’s why I started smokin’ in the first place, which is probably stupid, but, ya know?”

“She used to get after Tony for smoking cigars at parties,” Wanda says, a heavy lump forming in her throat. It’s always there when she talks about Natasha. She wonders if it’ll ever go away. 

Doubtful. 

“I believe it,” Carol says, putting out the cigarette and then standing up from the windowsill. 

There’s an unsure look in her eyes that makes Wanda feel unsettled. “Carol, are you-“

“It’s our anniversary - _ was _. Today. I realized what week it was on Monday and I just-“ She shakes her head, bottom lip shaking, and Wanda blinks back her tears. “I miss her, y’know? It’s not fair.”

She starts to cry again then and Wanda gets up from the bed. Carol buries her face in her neck as soon as she gets close enough and Wanda wraps her arms around her, one hand stroking gently at her hair. She’s never been good at comforting people, is bad at even being _ comforted _ by them, but she’s trying her best.

They stay like that for awhile, until Carol’s tears stop hitting the skin of her neck, until she steps out of Wanda’s space and gives her a sheepish smile, hands wiping at her eyes. 

“Sorry.” 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Wanda says, giving her a reassuring smile. “I miss her too.”

“I’m good at keeping it together now, just … it feels suffocating sometimes.” 

“Like there’s bricks in your lungs?” Wanda asks, eyebrows raised. “Because I _ definitely _understand what that’s like.” 

“Think they call it grief, darlin,” Carol says, giving her a slightly happier smile. 

“Fine then, _ grief _feels like bricks in my lungs.” 

“Why bricks?” Carol asks, running a hand through her messy hair. It sticks up in some places and Wanda can’t help but reach out and smooth them down, ignoring the slightly oily substance that gets on her fingers from it. 

“I don’t know,” She shrugs, hand resting on Carol’s cheek. “Do you need anything?” 

“Could probably use a shower.” 

“Maybe just a little,” Wanda says, wrinkling her nose up and smoothing out her hair again.

“I’ll go do that then,” Carol says, poking her nose and making Wanda shake her head with a chuckle. “Then I wanna hear about your day.”

“There’s not much to tell.”

“Still want to hear about it,” Carol says, giving Wanda a grin before she steps out into the hall.

Wanda thinks it’s unreasonable for a person to be so goddamn cute. 

* * *

“Whatcha doin?”

Carol’s arms wrap around her waist, chin resting on her shoulder, and she gives Wanda’s cheek a kiss that makes her smile unwillingly. 

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” She asks, positioning the knife in her hand so that she can cut her peanut butter and jelly diagonally. 

“Why are you always so grumpy?” Carol grumbles, her hands slip underneath Wanda’s shirt, fingertips sneaking to rest inside her jeans. 

Wanda stills, fingers shaking around the knife, and she takes a deep breath to try and ignore the heat that’s already building up in her panties.

“You’re being brave.”

“They’re still debriefing. _ Across _ the facility, I might add. Nowhere near the house.” 

“Debriefing,” Wanda huffs, Carol’s lips brushing across her skin. “That’s something I don’t miss.”

“It was a bad one too, we’ve got a good thirty minutes, and darlin?” 

“Hm?” 

“I know you don’t take that long.”

Wanda smacks the back of Carol’s hand, ignores the way she shivers at the feeling of her laughter against her neck. She’s not completely opposed to Carol fucking her like this, she’s just more worried about the meeting ending early.

The thrill of _ almost _being caught is what gets Wanda going, almost the key word here.

She’s not ready for anybody to know, even if she would like to be able to kiss Carol whenever she wants. They just aren’t there yet and she just, well the thought of being there doesn’t sit well.

She can admit that she cares about Carol, that she wants her to be happy and safe, but she’s not ready to think about _ romantic _feelings. 

“I’m just teasing. If you don’t want to you don’t have to. Besides, I kind of want a sandwich.”

She moves to pull away and Wanda turns, tugs on her wrist and then tugs her down by the back of her neck with the other hand. She knows that her kisses are frantic, now that Carol’s got the idea in her head, she's not going to stop thinking about it or wanting it until she finally gets it. 

Gets _ her _ and her fingers and her warm mouth.

Carol’s hands are gentle as the press her into the counter, gentle as they lift her up. Wanda has a brief moment of panic at her sandwich being ruined, because she’d like to eat that, and finds that it’s a safe distance away. Good.

“Will you make me one?” Carol asks, mouth brushing against hers once more before she moves onto Wanda’s jaw. 

“A sandwich?” She asks, her breathing is hard, the words come out in pants. 

“Mhm.” 

“Sure. You’ll have to be faster than this. We don’t have time for you to maul my neck, Danvers.” 

“There’s _ always _time for that.” 

“_ Danvers _.”

“You’re no fun,” Carol says, picking her head up from Wanda’s neck and _ damn it _ she’s pouting.

“Stop it.” 

“Stop what?” Carol asks, her hands moving to the button of Wanda’s jeans, undoing it with ease. There’s amusement in her eyes and Wanda really just _ hates _her. The audacity.

“I can’t stand you, you know?” Wanda huffs, lifting her ass up so she can shimmy her jeans off of her hips. 

“I find that a little hard to believe,” Carol retorts, hands sliding down her panties. Wanda shivers at the way the air hits her center and then Carol’s hands are pushing her legs apart and she’s grinning up at her. “This right here backs it up.”

“You’re hot and I like your fingers. Doesn’t mean I can stand the stuff that comes out of your mouth.”

“So you don’t like it when I tell you how good your pussy feels squeezing my fingers?” She asks, actually looking confused, and Wanda’s thighs tremble at the words. “That’s what I thought, why are you such a brat?” 

“Because I can’t stand you.” 

“I don’t _ have _to fuck you, you know? I’d be perfectly fine to pull your pants up and make myself a sandwich.” 

“You wouldn’t,” Wanda glares, and Carol’s eyebrows twitch up.

“Wouldn’t I?” 

“_ Danvers _,” Wanda whines, her hand falling to Carol’s wrist. She moves it up her thigh, closer to where she needs her. “Just feel how much I want you before you decide to be mean?” 

Carol sighs, feigning annoyance as she brings two fingers to Wanda’s folds, stroking them lazily, barely any pressure on her fingertips. 

“For the record,” Carol says, sliding her fingers back down. She slides her middle finger inside and Wanda shakes, hands gripping the counter hard enough for her knuckles to hurt. “I can’t stand you either.” 

Wanda tugs her in for a kiss, feels Carol’s grin against her mouth before she nips at her bottom lip and thrusts another finger inside of her. She gasps and Carol uses it as an opportunity to slide her tongue into Wanda’s mouth, kisses turning heated and bruising. She’s helpless to do anything but kiss her back, hips canting up to meet her fingers with each rapid, hard, thrust.

And for all of her annoyingness sometimes, Carol always finds a way to make up for it. 

Usually like this, her fingers hitting that spot inside of Wanda that makes her cry out, makes her duck her head and bury it in Carol’s neck, hands gripping wildly at the fabric of her shirt.

“Gonna let go for me, baby doll?” 

“_ Please _,” Wanda whimpers, scratching at Carol’s back through her shirt. “Please, please, please.” 

“Oh baby,” Carol groans, and then she’s being filled up with three of those glorious fingers and there’s pressure on her clit and Wanda swears she’s seeing stars behind her eyes, toes curling. 

“You’re so good for me, my perfect little brat,” Carol says, breathing heavily against her ear. Her free hand is splayed across Wanda’s back and holding her tight to her body, fingers still inside of her, the stretch pleasant and filling.

“I like to tease you,” Wanda mumbles, brain comfortably foggy, body slumped against Carol’s own, hands now loosely gripping her t-shirt.

“I know. It’s cute.” 

Wanda’s cheeks heat up and she nuzzles the exposed skin of Carol’s neck with her nose, humming contentedly at the smell of her cologne. 

“_ Mr Wilson, Sergeant Barnes, and Agents Carter and Hill are returning,” FRIDAY _ announces. 

Wanda lets out an embarrassed groan, chuckling against Carol’s neck. She doesn’t want to lose the feeling of having so many of Carol’s fingers inside of her, she feels so calm and content.

_ Safe _.

“C’mon baby. We can go lay in bed and watch a movie,” The words are soft, punctuated with a firm kiss on her forehead. She hums at the thought of being wrapped up in Carol’s heat and nods, lifts her head and leans back against the counter. Carol kisses her sweetly before she moves her fingers out, her pace slow. Wanda whimpers when they’re finally out, feels herself clench around nothing. She wants them back.

She helps Wanda down from the counter after pulling her underwear and pants up, zips and buttons her jeans for her. Then she’s moving to the sink, licking at her fingers with a content groan before she squirts them with soap. 

Wanda’s lazy, turning around just as they walk inside, their voices so loud to her sleepy ears.

She reaches for her sandwich with a happy grin, humming around her first bite. Carol turns and looks at her, eyes flashing hungrily, and she shoots a cheeky, satisfied grin back. 

“What’s making you look like the Cheshire Cat?” Sam asks, and she almost jumps, having tuned them out as she ate her sandwich. She fucking loved peanut butter and jelly, it was the best.

“This is a _ really _good sandwich,” She says, giving him a grin and a lazy thumbs up before she bites into it again. Carol shuts off the water and Wanda’s gaze falls to her beautiful and brilliantly big hands, fingers long and slender, crumpling up the paper towel and drying them off. 

“You look kind of droopy,” Bucky states, and Wanda tilts her head to look at him. “Have you been drinking? Danvers did you get her drunk?”

“Danvers doesn’t drink!” Wanda all but shouts, a sharp, protective type of feeling making her chest feel hot. Bucky looks at her with surprise, Sam looking between the three of them with confusion. “What? She doesn’t.” 

“Yeah but it’s just, you _ defended _her,” Sam’s hands spread out in front of him at the words.

Wanda scoffs. “We’re friends.” 

The lid of the peanut butter jar drops off the counter, plastic spinning slightly before it settles against the floor. Carol bends down to pick it up, giving her a confused look, the smile on her face pleased nonetheless. Wanda thinks her cheeks are tinted with pink, but she’s not very sure. 

“Since when?” Sharon asks, getting an apple from the fruit bowl, a curious look on her face as she stares at Wanda. It makes her feel annoyed.

“Since like, awhile ago,” Wanda shrugs, biting into her sandwich and staring at the way Carol’s jeans hug tightly at her calves. She’s so hot.

“Huh. Wouldn’t have expected that, honestly,” Sam says, shrugging his shoulders as he opens the fridge. Wanda wouldn’t have either, but she’s happy with her peanut butter and jelly and still feeling like goo from her orgasm and she doesn’t want to have these feelings ruined, so shut up Sam. “But then again, it kinda makes sense.” 

“Then again, it’s also none of your business. Want to pass me the knife there, Maximoff?” 

Wanda sighs and finishes off the first half of her second piece and hands Carol the knife, fingers brushing across her knuckles as she gives her a sleepy smile. She wants to be held now. 

“Can we watch Cars?” 

“Sure. That’s a good one.” 

“Awesome,” She mumbles, biting into her sandwich, eyes closing in content. 

Carol chuckles and Wanda feels the warmth of her body a couple of seconds later, hears her hum along. Wanda’s glad her sandwich is good.

* * *

“You know, sugar? I really like bein’ friends with you,” Carol says, lips hot against her spine. 

“Me too,” Wanda moans, back arching up into Carol’s lips. Her fingers are cupping at her breasts, twisting just enough to sting at her nipples every few moments. She can feel the way her slick sticks to her inner thighs. 

She just wants Carol to touch her. 

“You’re so pretty,” Carol says, teeth scraping down the middle of her back, the sting making Wanda’s back arch, a moan leaving her mouth, louder than the last. “Bet you’re drippin’ for me, huh?” 

“_ Yeah _,” Wanda whines, eyebrows furrowing together, eyes shut tight as Carol sucks a mark against the curve of her ass. She wishes she could have them longer, wishes the magic wouldn’t kick in and start to heal her. 

She really likes the burn.

She moves onto the skin past the curve, licks at the beginning of Wanda’s back thigh. She rubs two fingers against her slit through her panties and Wanda moans, hands gripping at the sheets.

“God, these are absolutely ruined,” Carol says, voice low and rough and making Wanda’s hips grind down against the bed, desperate for some type of friction. “You want it bad, don’t you?” 

“_ Yes _,” Wanda whines, hips meeting the quick circles Carol presses against her clit.

“I wanna make you cum until you can’t think straight, girl,” Carol says, and then her tongue is replacing her fingers, pleasantly warm against Wanda’s folds through her ruined panties. 

“_ Please _,” She whimpers, thighs trembling. She wants Carol to touch her properly, wants her so bad that she’s close to crying. She’s been teasing her for what feels like ages, ignoring all of Wanda’s comments and desperate noises.

Until now, it seems.

Carol’s hands give her ass a squeeze and then there’s a ripping sound and Wanda’s body shakes as her hips are exposed to the cool air of Carol’s bedroom. The fact that Carol _ ripped _them off with her bare hands is enough to make her clench around nothing, makes more slick stick to her inner thighs, nothing but a sloppy mess.

Carol’s tongue runs firm and sure through her folds, it feels like hot velvet and makes Wanda shake, grinding against Carol’s face as she cries out. She feels Carol’s lips curl into a smirk and then her tongue presses against her clit, circles confident and mind numbing. Her hands are still resting on her ass, fingers kneading into the curve of it, sometimes brushing a little close to her hole and making a pleasant sting run up her spine. She wonders what it would be like to have Carol take her like that, with her head between Wanda’s legs and two of those brilliant fingers filling her up. The thought of it is enough to make her cry out, to make her cum against Carol’s chin as she grinds down against her, feeling hopelessly desperate for more. She wants _ so much more _.

“God you taste good,” Carol says, and Wanda shakes. “You want more girl? I should’ve been doing this a hell of a long time ago, huh?”

“_ Mhm _,” Wanda agrees, legs shifting further apart. 

“Yeah. I’ll give you head any time you want, baby. I mean it, you taste like fuckin’ heaven.” 

“_ Carol _,” Wanda whimpers, too desperate to notice. Carol smiles against her thigh. 

“What was that?” 

“_ Carol _,” Wanda repeats, a smile forming on her face at the way it feels to say that. “Please.” 

“You’re so fuckin’ hot,” Carol groans, and then she’s licking at Wanda’s slit again. She presses it against her opening and slides just the tip of her tongue in, fingers kneading at her ass again and brushing slightly against her hole with more pressure. It makes her moan, thighs trembling.

She licks into her fully then she _ cums _ . She fucking _ cums _, all because Carol put her tongue inside of her for the first time. Wanda slumps the top half of her body down, feeling sensitive and pleasantly tired. She wants more, being able to feel herself against Carol’s chin not helping.

“Any time you want,” Carol says, sounding breathless. Wanda chuckles, chest going warm at the kiss that’s pressed against her thigh.

Carol’s arms are wrapping around her moments later, a firm kiss being pressed against her forehead before she pulls the blankets up to Wanda’s chin. She snuggles into her chest, the fabric of her sports bra cool against her cheek. 

She wraps one of her arms around Carol’s waist and tangles their legs together, feeling perfectly warm one she’s all settled. Danvers is so comfy.

“So, can I call you Wanda now?” Carol asks a little bit later, her fingertips running up and down her spine and making Wanda shiver.

“Yeah,” She says, something tugging sharply at her heart at the way Carol says her name. 

She definitely likes being friends with her too. 

* * *

“Carol and I are friends now,” Wanda says, the first thing to leave her mouth at her therapy session with Adam. He looks at her, eyes going wide and his face breaks into a smile.

“That’s great.” 

“I think so too. It was a very sudden decision because uhm-“ Wanda cuts herself off, burying her face in her hands as it burns read. 

“Because?” He prompts, Wanda knows he’s probably still smiling in amusement, his brown eyes probably kindly amused and lit up underneath the cheap linoleum lights. 

“It’s - well it’s kind of embarrassing,” She whines, shaking her head as she sits back up and runs her fingers through her hair. “I was kind of uhm, _ relaxed _ because of something Carol had been doing and well, they thought that I was _ drunk _ and were accusing her and she doesn’t drink so like, I kind of just panicked and said we were friends.” 

“Ah. You know, I had a friend like that in college. He was quite the fella,” Adam says, and Wanda blinks, a surprised laugh leaving her throat. 

“You like men?” 

“I’m bisexual,” He says, still smiling, thankfully not put off by her surprised laughter. 

“I just like girls,” Wanda shrugs, still not sure if she’s into the whole labeling thing. She just knows that although there are some _ very _ pretty men out there, she wouldn’t ever want to actually _ be _with one, sexually or otherwise. 

“So are you still _ friends _with this friend now that you’re married?” She asks, and then falters. “If I’m allowed to ask that, I’m not really sure.” 

“It’s fine,” Adam says, waving it off with his hand. “But yes, we’re still friends. Our kids get along really well, we mostly laugh about it now.” 

“What if like - I don’t think I’d want to see her with another person, does that make sense? We aren’t together or anything and I don’t have _ feelings _for her, but I still wouldn’t like it.” 

“Do you think you’ll ever develop feelings?” 

“I… don’t know,” Wanda says, because she’s still not ready to admit the truth about that. 

Adam nods, eyes gentle. “That’s okay.”

“Also, I tried that breathing exercise for nightmares-“

* * *

“Do you think they’ll ever stop looking at us with bug eyes when we’re together?” 

“I don’t know. I sure hope so though, or eating cereal is gonna be very awkward,” Carol laughs, and Wanda’s eyes are now completely distracted by her. The way her hair is ruffled, the way her eyes scrunch up as she grins happy and big, the way her grey sweatshorts are pulled tight over her lap, the bulge of her strap _just _barely noticeable. “What’re you thinkin’ about?” 

“You look handsome,” Wanda says, resting her head on the cushions and giving Carol a smile.

“Think so?” Carol asks, her hands resting on Wanda’s jean covered calves. 

“Yeah. I like this outfit. Do you have more?” 

“A few,” Carol nods, thumb rubbing bold, warm strokes over her leg. Wanda feels _ okay _, sitting here, basking in Carol’s bright presence. 

“You’re lookin’ at me funny.” 

“I’m just - I feel _ okay _,” Wanda says, a smile breaking out onto her face. “I really do.” 

Carol grins and then flicks her eyes towards the dining room. She’s checking on Sam, who’s banging on something in the kitchen. Once the coast is deemed all clear, her lips press against Wanda’s quick and heart pounding. 

“Well, okay on you looks beautiful.” 

“Thank you,” Wanda says, looking down at her legs resting on Carol’s lap. 

“It’s the truth.” 

Wanda’s cheeks heat up and she gazes shyly up at Carol, hand resting on top of one of her hands. 

Yeah, there’s _ definitely _going to come a time when Wanda falls for her - if she hasn’t already.

* * *

“We should go out to dinner.” 

“Why?” Wanda asks, ignoring the way her heart starts pounding in her chest at the sentence. 

She’s not sure if it’s because Carol’s asking her on a date or because of anxiety. Can’t be both. 

“I want Mexican food, duh,” Carol huffs, sticking her tongue out at Wanda and giving her bicep a squeeze. “I miss burritos and rice and-“

“_ Okay _. But I’m not changing.” 

“You’re gonna go to dinner in a bra? I’m not sure that’s a good idea, darlin” Carol says, wiggling her fingers against Wanda’s ribs and making her laugh involuntarily. “Men would be all over ‘ya.” 

“You wouldn’t be all over me?” Wanda pouts, deciding that she absolutely _ must _wear Carol’s comfy black hoodie with the team logo on it.

“Well I didn’t say that,” Carol grins, giving Wanda a kiss. She smacks at her thigh before she stands up. “C’mon on then, I’m starving.” 

“I wonder why,” Wanda deadpans. She picks up Carol’s discarded hoodie from earlier and tugs it over her head. “I’m wearing this.” 

“Cute.” 

Wanda’s cheeks burn and she rolls her eyes, pulling on her high tops and lacing them up before she stands and rebuttons her jeans.

“You look so tiny. Like a little egg.” 

Wanda turns her head and squints her eyes at Carol, who’s doing up her belt. It’s attractive and the clinking noise it makes when it slips out of her fingers makes Wanda shiver. “An egg?”

“Yeah. An egg.”

“Eggs aren’t cute.” 

“Eggs named Wanda are,” Carol says, giving her a wink as she finally gets her belt done right. 

“Shut up,” Wanda says, rolling her eyes. Carol’s laughter doesn’t stop till they reach the stairs.

* * *

They go to _ Roberto’s _every single Friday night after that. Wanda’s come to cherish the alone time she gets with Carol. After all, Friday’s are game nights, and she’s kind of an attention hog.

Simply because knowing that she actually _ has _Carol’s attention makes her feel warm inside, makes all of her smiles that much more precious.

She’s coming to the conclusion that her heart races and her fingers twitch to reach out and touch simply because who _ wouldn’t _want her?

Wanda knows the true reason, deep down she does. She’s just refusing to think about it. Refusing to be the one who speaks up first. 

“You’ve gotta try this, doll. It’s amazing,” Carol says, wiggling her eyebrows and giving Wanda a nod toward the stuffed tortilla that’s covered in some fancy type of cheese sauce. 

“It has jalapeños,” Wanda says, nose wrinkling. 

“Yeah, but there’s no meat. Just veggies.” 

“_ Fine _,” Wanda huffs, sticking out her bottom lip in a short pout. She takes a small bite and hums in surprise, Carol’s grin turning knowing. Idiot.

“Told you so.” 

“Whatever,” She says, licking her bottom lip. She doesn’t miss the way Carol’s eyes dart down to track the motion, but decides to ignore the way her stomach clenches and scoops up more rice.

“Brat.” 

“_ How _am I being a brat, Danvers? Please explain.” She can’t contain the eyeroll that escapes her and Carol seems to delight in it, eyes sparkly and bright. She’s up to something.

“You’re ridiculously pretty. And that guy sitting over there with his frat boy buddies wants to put the moves on you.” 

Wanda gasps, points her empty fork at Carol,”You’re _ jealous _.” 

“_ Shut up _,” Carol mumbles, stuffing the rest of her cheesy stuffed tortilla into her mouth. Sauce smears onto her cheek and Wanda’s eyes search the restaurant until she finds said frat boy table. A guy in a flamingo shirt is watching her. 

She gives him a grin and then looks back at Carol, who’s right cheek is bulged up as she chews on her food. Wanda leans forward across the table and wipes the sauce from her cheek with her thumb, then she sucks it off with a happy hum and leans forward to give Carol a kiss.

“Don’t worry handsome, you’re the only one who’s allowed to touch me.” She says it in a teasing manner but knows deep down that it’s true. Carol’s eyes go dark at her words and she gives Wanda a kiss that makes her feel breathless, makes her realize that they’re kissing in public. Carol is _ kissing _ her in _ public _. 

“So’re you,” Carol says back, voice low and sending warmth down Wanda’s spine. “I mean it.”

“Well that’s good. I don’t like sharing my friends.”

Carol lets out a laugh, licks sauce off her index finger and shoots Wanda a grin. “Me neither.” 

* * *

“Did you and your friend ever go out to dinner?” 

“Not just the two of us,” Adam says, his face smoothing back out from its searching expression. “How does it feel, going out?”

“We aren’t going out,” Wanda says, panic evident in her voice. It makes her feel crushed for some reason, but she isn’t ready for that, she can barely accept the fact that she might actually _ want _to be going out with Carol, for like, real.

“I meant in general. You seem to have a lot of anxiety about going to town.” 

“Oh. Well on my own I do, but Carol’s strong and she makes me feel safe, so,” Wanda shrugs her shoulders, eyebrows furrowing at the look in Adam’s eyes. “What? What did I say?” 

“She makes you feel safe?” 

“Is that a bad thing?” Wanda asks, stomach twisting. She bites down on her bottom lip and fidgets, tries to ignore that maybe they need to stop. That maybe she really shouldn’t be doing this, not with Natasha’s ex, or anybody else.

“No, Wanda. That’s a _ great _ thing. I’m glad that you’re being _ friends _with someone who makes you feel safe. That’s a very good thing to have.” 

“But it’s okay, right? I think I might have feelings for her and I feel - I feel like I’m betraying Natasha, you know? Carol was _ hers _, and now - well I kind of maybe want her to be mine?” 

“You’re not betraying anyone, Wanda. You can’t control your feelings for someone, whether they’re platonic or not. Do you think Carol feels the same way? That she also has feelings?” 

“I don’t know,” Wanda says, heart racing from her all but confession. 

“Do you want her to?” 

“I think - _ hope _so. At least one day.” 

And she does. She thinks it would be nice for Carol to be hers, but she can’t help but feel like she should at least be able to _ tell _Natasha about it. It’s unreasonable and silly but she thinks it would help lighten up the heavy feeling inside her chest, at least just a little bit. Or it’ll make it worse, and wouldn’t that be just her luck?

* * *

“What's that bag ever done to you?” 

Carol’s biceps flex as she rattles the bag with her punches again. There’s sweat marks around the arm holes of her grey bro-tank, her workout pants hugging her thighs in a way that makes Wanda’s mouth feel dry. She’s quite the beefcake, at least, Wanda thinks that’s what it’s called. She’s not sure and she’s _ not _asking. 

“It’s therapeutic,” Carol says, voice raised so that Wanda can hear her from across the gym. 

“Well, I was thinking about ordering pizza since I don’t feel like cooking. Sound good?” 

Carol turns to her, starts to head her way, fingers catching Wanda’s attention as they unwrap her protective tape from her hands. 

“Wanna take a shower with me first?”

“Uh, _ duh _,” Wanda says, giving Carol a smile. 

She’s expecting a hello kiss, or a hug, instead Carol hoists her up and over her shoulder, arm wrapped around her waist. Wanda squeaks with surprise and gives Carol’s ass a smack.

“You could have warned me.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Carol asks and Wanda smacks her again, rolling her eyes at her laughter. She doesn’t really mind, in fact she really likes it when Carol picks her up. 

It just reminds her to appreciate her muscles even more than she does. She _ loves _Carol’s muscles, loves when she uses them. 

Especially when it’s for railing her into the mattress while fucking her with her strap. 

God does she miss Carol’s cock. Two weeks is far too long without getting to take it.

“Handsome?” 

“Yes, doll?” Carol asks, pushing the door to the showers open. She sets Wanda down by the bench and looks at her with raised eyebrows.

“I want your cock,” She says, giving Carol an innocent smile. She’s down right _ delighted _at the dark look that takes over those brown eyes. 

“I don’t have it with me.” 

“I know,” Wanda shrugs, reaching out to give Carol’s fingers a tug. “I was just telling you.” 

“We’ll see, but only if you don’t cum until I tell you to in the shower, hm?”

“I can do that,” Wanda says, sounding a lot more positive than she sounds. She’s probably going to fail, especially if Carol’s going to purposefully get her worked up fast. She’s got a love hate relationship when it comes to that. 

For now she just watches with appreciation as Carol lifts her tank top over her head, glistening with sweat and Wanda just wants to know what it tastes like. She doesn’t have it in her to even feel ashamed by thinking that.

Then she’s opening up the shower door and turning it on. Wanda rises from the bench and kicks out of her slip on shoes. She’s glad it’s just the two of them, Sam and Bucky off in Europe for an undercover op. Carol’s only left three times in the past week, always landing on Wanda’s balcony and letting herself in at 3 a.m.

Because they sleep together now. Without having sex first. Wanda likes it a lot, is scared about already being so attached. She doesn’t want to get hurt, which is why it was easier when she didn’t have a stupid crush on Carol. 

She’s waiting for the day she inevitability screws it up by admitting how she feels. 

“You comin?”

Wanda blinks, hands still resting on her stomach, fingers curled underneath the hem of her shirt. Carol’s hair is already wet and she’s staring at Wanda with a raised eyebrow. It’s stupidly hot.

She gets in soon after that, stomach settling as she feels Carol’s heavy arms wrap around her waist, chest pressing into her back. She leans back against her with a content sigh, the heat of the water just right, making her feel extra warm while being wrapped up inside a Carol bubble.

“You’re thinkin’ about something. I can tell, you get this certain look in those pretty eyes of yours.” 

“I just like being around you, is all,” Wanda says, allows herself to admit something small. 

“I thought you couldn’t stand me?” She can all but _ hear _the shit eating grin on Carol’s face. 

“Yeah, well, that was before I realized you’re okay and not _ always _a pain in the ass.” 

“I’m _ okay _ ?” Carol gasps, making Wanda giggle as she’s spun around. The soft look in Carols eyes makes her breath hitch in her throat, heart skipping a beat. The only word she can think of is _ affection _ and she can’t really process that. 

Other than the fact that it makes her need a kiss right then there before she dies, so she cups the back of Carol’s neck and rises on her toes to do just that. Carol’s mouth is hot and perfect against her own, making Wanda shiver at the way her teeth scrape against her bottom lip. 

“You’re great,” Wanda says, blurts, really, having needed to absolutely say that right now.

“Darlin, are you feeling okay?” Carol asks, hands soft on her cheeks, fingers resting in the hair behind her ears. “You’re actin’ like a nice girl.”

“I’m _ always _ a nice girl,” Wanda says, narrowing her eyes at Carol before she rests her head on her collarbone, wrapping her arms around her waist with a content sigh. She loves being this close to Carol, it’s like the warmest place ever.

“Yeah,” Carol says, voice going soft as she wraps her arms around Wanda, one hand on the small of her back and the other stroking her hair. “Yeah, baby, you are. My very nice girl.” 

“Yours?” Wanda whispers, heart thundering in her chest, she feels so _ warm _ at the words. 

She likes her, so much. She really does. 

“Yeah, mine. That’s okay?” 

“Hm,” Wanda hums, and then she smiles, rests her chin where her head had been as she grins up at Carol. “Does this make us best friends now?” 

Carol grins down at her, eyes gone scrunchy, Wanda’s heart is near to bursting. She’s such a cute puppy, it’s almost ridiculous sometimes.

“Yeah. We’re best friends now.” 

Wanda laughs, happy and warm all over, and Carol’s lips find hers with surprising gentleness.

She likes having Carol be her best friend. 

* * *

The only thing that’s changed now that they’re _ best friends _, is that Carol is a lot more handsy with her in front of everyone else.

The one thing they haven’t done yet is kiss, but Carol’s just got home and is heading toward Wanda with intent and all but ignoring everyone greeting her. She takes the Pepsi out of Sam’s hand and takes a chug, then wraps one arm around Wanda’s shoulder and presses a quick, warm, and heart flipping kiss to her cheek.

It makes her cheeks flood with heat, Carol giving her shoulder a squeeze before she rounds the other side of the couch. She sits down next to Sharon, knee brushing against Wanda’s.

“So, how's everybody doing?” She asks, and Wanda can’t help but appreciate her. She’s got both elbows resting on the back of the couch, Pepsi dangling lazily from her fingers, legs spread open so that her knee stays pressing against Wanda’s instead of the occasional brush.

“Got goodie points with Fury,” Bucky shrugs, taking a sip of his beer. 

“Mission went good then?” 

“Yeah. How was space?”

“Annoying,” Carol huffs, taking another drink of her soda and giving Wanda a look. She raises an eyebrow in response. “How’re you today, darlin?”

“I’m good,” Wanda says, cheeks warm, smile shy as she tries not to get overwhelmed by the soft look in Carol’s eyes. She’s not used to being so open, out of practice when it comes to hiding her emotions for protection. Because Carol is safe.

Maybe not everyone else, but it’s so easy to tune them out when she looks at her like that.

“Yeah? What’d you do?”

“I walked the trails in the forest for a bit, then I read a book, ate some fruit with tea, and took a nap. Now I’m here and glad that you’re home.”

Four days isn’t long in theory, but when she has to go that long without Carol’s smile it feels like forever. Something akin to surprise flashes in Carol’s eyes but she gives Wanda a sweet little smile. “I’m glad I’m home too.” 

“Am I missing something?” Scott asks, voice cheerful as always and full of confusion.

The bubble breaks and she looks down at her lap, fingers playing with a loose string on the ripped up part of her jeans. 

“What do you mean?” Carol asks, voice slow and neutral, calm and unbothered as ever. 

Wanda wants to know how she does that.

“Well it’s just, you guys seem close - like Hope and I close-“

“_ Scott _,” Hope scolds, giving his knee a shove, a stern look on her face. 

“_ Ow _ ! Hey - they _ do _.” 

“We’re just friends,” Carol replies, words happy sounding and making Wanda look at her. She’s got a twinkle in her eye and gives her a grin, it makes Wanda feel settled and right again.

“_ Best _friends,” Wanda corrects, leaning forward and picking up her bowl of fruit. She’d just sat down with it when Carol had walked in the door.

She stabs a green grape with her fork and chews on it happily, the urge to kiss Carol fading into a distant, hopeful, thought. 

It never leaves.

“You know I’m not really surprised,” Pepper says, taking a drink of her wine. “Tony always said he thought that Natasha did a good job with picking people, said that he thought you two would get along. I didn’t see why until now. It’s nice.” 

_ Natasha did a _ ** _good job _ ** _ at picking _ ** _people_ **.

Did that mean he might’ve liked her after all?

Wanda sighs and takes a bite out of a strawberry, trying not to focus on all the unanswered questions she’s got floating around in her mind.

“Yeah,” Carol says, voice going quieter, probably at the mention of their mutual dead girlfriend.

“It is.” 

* * *

Wanda watches the news ring out Peter’s name with horror, heart dropping in her stomach.

She hadn’t known about the news until _ FRIDAY _ had turned it on _ for _Wanda. Which had made her annoyed at first until she realized what was happening. Carol was away in Louisiana, Sam and Bucky were in Japan, and Wanda was here, nowhere near Europe. 

And now this _ J. Jonah Jameson _guy has just given out a seventeen year old’s name, has just revealed who Spider-Man is and put Peter and all of his friends in danger. Not that they weren’t before, according to the news report. 

Wanda knows in her heart that Peter didn’t kill this _ Mysterio _ guy. That they’ve got it wrong.

She turns off the TV, the news moving onto something else, and pulls out her phone to text Carol. Knows there’s got to be something they can do, something to fix it, or make it go away.

**Wanda [8:30 p.m] : ** _ Did you see the news? _

Three little dots pop up immediately and Wanda can’t help but smile. Carol always responds to her so fast unless she’s busy. 

**Danvers [8:31 p.m] : ** _ About Parker? Not until too late. _

**Wanda [8:31 p.m] : ** _ Why didn’t Fury call you, Carol? It doesn’t make any sense. _

**Danvers [8:32 p.m] : ** _ That’s confidential. _

Wanda scoffs, anger rising in her stomach. Did this mean that Carol _ knew _Fury wouldn’t be able to call if a disaster like this happened? 

**Wanda [8:33 p.m] : ** _ So you knew he wouldn’t be able to call if something like this happened? _

**Danvers [8:33 p.m] : ** _ He could have called. This was probably his way of testing Peter, Wanda. To see if he was responsible enough for his choice. _

**Wanda [8:34 p.m] : ** _ By not being there for him? _

**Danvers [8:36 p.m] : ** _ I know. We’ll get this sorted out somehow, okay? I might organize for everyone to say that Peter Parker was nothing more than an intern at Stark Industries, and that Tony wouldn't have let him in without supervision. _

**Wanda [8:36 p.m] : ** _ They won’t believe us. _

**Danvers [8:36 p.m] : ** _ We’ll figure it out, babe. _

**Danvers [8:37 p.m] : ** _ Promise _

Wanda sighs, leans back against her pillows and hits the comforter with her free hand despite smiling at Carol calling her a pet name. 

**Wanda [8:38 p.m] : ** _ How was your day? _

**Danvers [8:38 p.m] : ** _ Good, went to the lake. _

**Wanda [8:39 p.m] : ** _ You mean you were in swim trunks and didn’t send me a picture? :( _

Carol sends her a picture of her legs, nothing but a pair of dark blue boxers on. One knee is raised, the other down, and Wanda can just barely see the tv that’s in the background. 

**Danvers [8:41 p.m] : ** _ Does that make up for it? _

Wanda’s cheeks are warm, especially considering the way Carol’s fingertips are _ just _in view, resting against her boxers. She wonders if it’s her way of teasing, wonders if this is going to lead into what Wanda wants it to.

**Wanda [8:43 p.m] : ** _ Might need another _

Wanda almost drops her phone onto her nose at the next one and rolls onto her side, heat curling low in her stomach. This time it’s a photo of Carol’s stomach, abs flexed, one arm laying on her torso, hand being cut off by the camera.

The one that’s on her boxers. Wanda feels like she can’t breathe, the way Carol’s laying makes the little mole on her right boob noticeable.

**Danvers [8:46 p.m] : ** _ Like it? _

**Wanda [8:46 p.m] : ** _ Definitely. You’re hot. _

**Danvers [8:46 p.m] : ** _ So are you, pretty girl. _

Wanda grins, bottom lip getting trapped between her teeth as she kicks the sheets off her legs. She bends the both at the knee and rests her hand on the fabric of her shorts, the tip of her middle finger pressing against her warm heat through the fabric, and takes a picture.

**Wanda [8:48 p.m] : ** _ I miss you _

**Danvers [8:48 p.m] : ** _ My fingers, you mean? _

Wanda lets out a shaky sigh, lets herself run two fingers over her slit through her shorts, It’s a bit of a fight with the phone to get a decent picture for Carol, but she sends it off before she can get embarrassed. She’s too thrilled for it to be ruined.

**Wanda [8:49 p.m] : ** _ Definitely _

**Danvers [8:49 p.m] : ** _ Fuck _

**Danvers [8:50 p.m] : ** _ Can I call you baby? _

Wanda trembles at the thought of Carol telling her what to do over the phone, and she fumbles to type out _ yes _. Her phone rings seconds later and she answers it, feeling out of breath as she settles back against her pillows with a sigh.

“Hi,” She says, voice surprisingly high pitched.

“I miss you too,” Carol says, voice low and sending shivers down Wanda’s spine. 

“Miss you more,” Wanda’s voice is breathy, hopeless but to move her fingers against herself again, and she adds more pressure this time.

“I’ll be home soon, hm? I’m gonna make you feel real good when I get back too, gonna make it so you can’t think straight. How’s that sound?” 

“With your cock?” Wanda whimpers, hips bucking up into her fingers. It’s not enough, but she stills, hears the way Carol groans. “Can I do it?” 

“Do what?” 

“I want to- I want you to tell me what to do,” Wanda says, cheeks burning at the thought of actually saying what she wants. “Right now.” 

“Of course, darlin. You go right ahead.” 

Wanda bites back a needy whine and puts the phone on speaker as she shimmies out of her shorts and panties. She feels a mixture of nervous and excited, looking forward to Carol telling her what to do, or what she’s _ going _to do to her once she gets back. Wanda can’t wait.

“Wish I was there,” She murmurs, and Wanda gasps as she slides two fingers against her folds, already wet. It feels like bliss when she runs them over her clit, a small noise leaving her lips.

“Me too,” She breathes, hips meeting her fingers, a lightning hot feeling flashing all over her. 

“You close already, doll?” Carol asks, Wanda loves her voice when she’s turned on. 

“_ Yeah _,” She whimpers, increasing the pressure of her middle finger, eyes closing, brows furrowed.

“That’s good. Glad you feel good. I love how pretty you look when you let go, the way her pretty lips part and head tilts back. It’s so beautiful, baby. _ You’re _so beautiful, I wish I could touch you. I miss you so much.” 

“_ Oh _,” Wanda moans, back arching up, legs flexing, and then she’s cumming, sweet relief making her body feel pleasantly floaty. 

“Atta girl,” Carol draws, her voice thick and low. It draws Wanda back into reality and she lets out a whimper, wiping her fingers on her thigh.

“You good?”

“Mhm, wish you were here,” Her accent is thick, voice slow and sleepily lazy. “Miss your arms.”

“I’ll hold you all day once I get back from the aquarium tomorrow, I promise.”

“Send me shark pictures,” Wanda mumbles, pulling the blankets up to her cheeks. 

Carol’s laugh makes her feel warm and fuzzy.

“Anything you want.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight baby doll, sweet dreams.”

* * *

“Pretty girl, are you awake?” 

Wanda’s immediate reaction is to smile, Carol’s singsong voice dorky and rarely heard. 

She lets out a happy _ hm _, feels Carol smile against her neck before she rolls over, face landing in Carol’s boobs. It’s a comfy place.

“I sent you shark pictures.”

“You’re the best,” Wanda mumbles, giving Carol’s an ass a clumsy squeeze through her sweats.

“You know, we could’ve been best friends a long time ago if I had known sharks and orgasms were the way to your heart.” 

Wanda lifts her head up, heart thundering as she stares up at Carol. “You got a crush on me?” 

“Do you?” 

There’s a heavy look in Carol’s eyes, her hand resting warm and heavy on Wanda’s hip, thumb circling the soft skin of it under her tank top.

Wanda wants to say it. Wants to know if this uncharted territory could become something good - something _ right _. Then the look shifts, understanding mixing along with it, and Carol gives her a smile that makes Wanda feel winded. 

She leans forward, her nose bumping against Wanda’s, and then they’re kissing, soft and sweeter than anything she can remember.

It’s not a confession, not fully, but Wanda knows now that she wouldn’t have been able to handle saying it out loud, yet. 

“One day,” Wanda breathes, tucking her warm face into Carol’s neck. 

“Yeah, baby. One day.” 

* * *

“Do you use your magic regularly?” 

Wanda blinks, not expecting _ that _to be Adam’s question after her first failed solo mission.

El Paso, two weeks, fifty seven people dead. 

All because she failed to lace out some scummy politicians who was more important than she thought. That’d been the time she didn’t use powers for a month and a half, only giving in because Natasha wouldn’t stop trying to help. 

She wishes she had been more grateful. 

“Wanda?” 

She blinks, folds her fingers against her palms and hides them in the sleeves of her sweater. 

“No. I haven’t since I broke your candle.” 

“And before that, how long had it been?”

“Four months,” Wanda says, not wanting to talk about the whys and why-nots of her magic use. 

Adam seems to think it’s important, there’s a crinkle to his brown, a heavy look in his eyes. 

“So nine months in total, save one incident. Do you have any want to use them?” 

“Carol’s tolerable now, so no.” 

“And if you needed to? Or say, you got another chance to bring Natasha back. Would you?”

“Of course,” Wanda huffs, a laugh breaking out of her throat. It’s cracky and ugly sounding but it’s better than crying. “I’d use them for her, what kind of question is that? I’d _ always _do it for her.”

“Would you do it for _ you _?” 

“It’s a fight or flight instinct.”

“So you’d let yourself be killed before using them again?” 

“If I’m dead I would save more lives. No powers, no _ me _, means no accidental damage. Or death.”

Adam doesn’t seem to like that very much, his crinkle gets even more _ crinkly _ and all Wanda can do is lean back in her seat and wait. The timer dings and he blinks his eyes before he shifts in his seat and clears his throat.

“I want you to use them again. These powers don’t have to be a curse, Wanda, and maybe getting connected to them - _ truly _ connected, could help you feel more at peace.” 

“I don’t think I can,” Wanda says, frustration blooming in her chest. These powers would always be a curse, a symbol of the darkest parts of her mind and emotions. “And you’re wrong.” 

“Maybe, but what if I’m not? Wouldn’t it be worth it to at least try?” 

Wanda sighs, runs her hands through her hair and pulls it up into a ponytail, decidedly not meeting his eyes to keep from crying.

“Just think about it, okay?” Adam asks, opening the door for her. His tone is light and Wanda sighs, gives him a nod with watery eyes.

“Okay,” He says, giving her a grin. 

Wanda gives him a half hearted smile back and then leaves, a heavy, thick feeling in her chest.

She doesn’t _ want _to think about it but she will. Just not by herself. She doesn’t trust that.

* * *

Asking for help is a _ lot _harder than Wanda had thought, but it’s two days until her next session and she figures she at least owes Adam some amount of effort. It’s the least she can do.

It’s also a lot harder when Carol’s all, well, _ Carol _.

She’s been exceptionally touchy, ever since that conversation, that _ almost _confession. Wanda’s kind of in heaven, especially since she gets to see the softer side to Carol Danvers. Like right now, Carol’s body taking up the rest of the couch, one arm trapped behind Wanda’s back, fingers curved around her hip, and the other dangling above the floor. Her head is facing the tv and Wanda’s combing through her freshly cut hair, amused and endeared by the way it sticks up. 

They aren’t watching Love Island, but rather, what Wanda has come to realize is Friends.

“Who’s your favorite?” She asks, trying to prepare for having to ask a question that makes her feel all sorts of exhausted. 

“Monica.” 

Wanda blinks in surprise,”Mine too.” 

“Nat’s was Joey.” 

“And Chandler,” Wanda adds, Carol hums in response. “I miss her bad jokes.” 

“_ Cute _jokes.” 

“Okay, I miss her _ cute _bad jokes,” Wanda huffs, the lump has formed in her throat again but it’s less painful now. She wonders why. 

“I think she’d have a million for the two of us.” 

“Being best friends?” Wanda asks, scratching lightly at the buzz cut Carol’s hair fades into.

“Mhm. Captain Hottie and the Sexy Witch.” 

“She told you about that?” Wanda asks, cheeks turning red. It was the most embarrassing yet somehow the hottest thing Natasha had nicknamed her. It was supposed to be a secret.

“_ Yep _,” Carol says, Wanda can all but hear her grin. She replaces her left hand with her right so that she can wiggle her fingers against Carol’s ribs in response, a mixture of mortified and horny.

“Why?” 

“Because I told her Captain Hottie sounded ridiculous and she said ‘_ You sound just like Wanda did when I called her Sexy Witch.’” _

Wanda can’t help but laugh at Carol’s impression, breath getting caught in her throat when Carol’s hand takes hers. Their fingers lace together and Carol’s are warm when they give her hand a squeeze. 

“I’m glad she told me about you. I can see why she’d get this like, enraptured look in her eyes when she talked about you. Even when it was about a fight, that look was always there.” 

Wanda swallows thickly, nose starting to tingle and vision going blurry with the need to cry. 

She won’t. 

“She loved you so much, baby. So _ much _, she never stopped, and I - I’m scared I might end up doing the same.” Carol’s voice gets thick towards the end and Wanda, well, she’s crying. 

She’s quiet about it, even if she has to take her hand from Carol’s hair and wipe at her eyes with her hoodie sleeve (it’s actually Carol’s, giant and baby blue, she _ loves _it) and take shaky breaths.

“I’m scared too,” She mumbles, voice cracking, and she leaves the _ because I already am _part of the sentence off though. It takes a lot of effort.

Carol doesn’t need to know that Wanda is falling in _ love _with her. It’s the last thing that anyone needs to know, the exception being Natasha, who she wishes she could talk to more than ever.

If not to have her back then to get advice on how she was able to love someone again. 

“I wish I could talk to her, you know?” 

Wanda laughs, it’s throaty and painful and she tilts her head back on the cushions, staring at the ceiling as her heart fucking aches. “_ I know _.” 

* * *

She tells Adam she’ll think about it some more, that she’ll try to dig up the effort it takes to shoot a hex blast at something. He’s content with that.

So now she’s here - Carol off with the boys to go and try to find a way to help Peter - in the gym alone. It seems huge and empty now that so few people occupy it. Back when everyone was alive and they were still a team, there was _ always _someone in here. Now all Wanda can do is stare at the test dummy and sigh in frustration.

She closes her eyes and tries to relax, tries to tap into the energy that’s trapped inside of her veins, bloodstream, nerve endings. It happens in the form of a reminder; her birthday. 

It’s next Wednesday and she’ll be alone, again. Another tally on the intake of how many years it’s been without Pietro here to celebrate alongside her, the first tally on the intake of a birthday without Natasha and without Steve.

And it’s there, the magic. It’s swirling underneath her fingertips, almost violent in its ache to get out after being pent up and dormant for so long. 

Wanda tries. She tries to let the blast go but it doesn’t leave. She opens her eyes and repeats the motion, the gentle flick of her index and middle fingers. Nothing happens, not even any of those faint little strings she can somehow do.

“_ Might I suggest- _“

“_ No _,” Wanda growls, jaw clenching as she glares at the practice dummy. 

She’s had enough for tonight.

* * *

Wanda’s birthday starts with one hell of a nightmare and when she looks at the clock she realizes that the team is probably having their annual Wednesday brunch. 

Maybe she deserves some strawberries. 

So she gets out of bed, Natasha’s sleep shirt comfy and worn and oversized. She doesn’t have it in her to take it off, even though it’s something of a safety net. Instead she just puts her hair up in a bun and walks down the stairs, hears the teams laughter and talking before she sees it.

“Hey!” Carol greets her, that heart melting and ridiculous puppy dog grin on her face.

Wanda can’t help but smile. “Hey.”

Sam rises from his seat, pulls out an envelope from his back pocket and holds it out to her, a grin on his face as he says - “Happy birthday.” 

Wanda takes the envelope from him and flips it over to find Steve’s handwriting and some incredibly realistic doodles of balloons and a birthday cake. He even put her name on it. 

“Thank you,” Wanda says, giving Sam a small smile. Her cheeks are warm and she’s quick to move to the kitchen, setting the letter on top of the breadbox. “Is there any cinnamon rolls?” 

“In the oven,” Sam says, the end of his sentence being drowned out by the horrible scraping of someone’s chair. 

“It’s your birthday?” Carol asks, voice loud and disbelieving. Wanda turns to look at her as she comes to a stop at the counter and shrugs. 

“Yep.” 

“And you didn’t tell me?” 

“It’s not important,” She says, shrugging again before she rises on her toes to get a plate out of the cabinet. 

“Not _ important _ ?” Carol looks genuinely outraged by this information. It’s stupidly cute. “Babe, it’s your _ birthday _ . This is super _ duper _important.” 

Wanda can’t help but laugh, warmth spreading throughout her chest until it hits her. Carol called her babe, loudly, right out in the open. 

She opens her mouth to speak, to say anything, but Carol shakes her head with a smile, heavy look in her eyes. Then she’s leaning in and giving Wanda a quick kiss on the lips, clapping her hands together when she pulls away. She takes a step backwards and points her fingers at her.

“We’re celebrating.”

“Carol - that’s - _ no _ ,” Wanda whines, cheeks burning red. Carol _ kissed _ her in front of everybody _ and _called her babe. It’s a lot. 

“_ Yes _,” Carol says, sitting back down and giving Wanda a happy grin as she stuffs bacon into her mouth. Wanda groans and buries her face in her hands, why the hell does she like this idiot?

_ Super duper _. 

“So like, when did this happen?” Sam asks, pointing his fork back and forth between the two of them. “‘Cause, I thought y’all were friends.” 

“We are,” Carol shrugs, like that’s a simple enough answer. Wanda wishes it was.

“Friends don’t kiss friends.” 

“People have different definitions of the word friend, Sam. The way I feel about my friendship with Wanda is definitely _ not _how I feel about my friendship with you. Understand?” 

“I’d sure hope not,” Sam grumbles and then everyone’s laughing, even if there’s an almost angry look in Hill’s eyes. Wanda can’t help but join, picking leaves off of her strawberries with a content hum. Maybe it’d be okay after all.

* * *

Celebrating with Carol means they absolutely _ must _go to a town fair that’s an hour away. 

In the middle of September. 

At night time. 

So now they’re here and Wanda’s shivering, arms across her chest, hands rubbing rapidly at the fabric of her denim jacket. 

“It’s fucking freezing,” Wanda grits, teeth chattering with every word. Carol chuckles and wraps one strong arm around her shoulders, body like a miniature furnace. “Thank you.” 

“Why’d you wear a dress in this weather, girl? Not that I’m complaining, you look gorgeous but-“

“_ I don’t know _,” Wanda grumbles, wrapping her arm around Carol’s waist and leaning against her. 

“You’ll warm up once we get some hard cider,” Carol says, lips warm as they brush against Wanda’s temple. It makes her smile.

The fair is actually quite a good size. There’s a ferris wheel and kid rides, the rest a bunch of game booths, food vendors, and there’s a live band playing across the field. It’s the most people she’s been around in awhile but she barely feels bothered by it, being numb from the cold and wrapped up in Carol’s bubble has that effect. 

“How’d you know this place was in town?”

“Passed over it yesterday morning, was gonna ask you to come with me today, but it didn’t quite work out the way I thought it would.” 

“Oh yeah?” Wanda asks, resting her chin on Carol’s shoulder with a smile. “What was it?” 

“Well,” Carol grins back, presses a kiss right between her brows. “I was gonna give you some head, ‘cause I miss the way you taste, and then wait until you were all relaxed to convince you into going. Is that bad? You’re very grumpy.”

“So you’re _ not _ going to go down on me? It’s my _ birthday _,” Wanda pouts, and Carol laughs. 

“Oh I will, but I’m gonna win you a teddy bear first.” 

“Really?” 

“Yup,” Carol nods, squeezing Wanda’s arm. “We’ve just gotta find the biggest one.” 

“Can we get cider first?” 

“_ You _can. I’m gettin’ a Pepsi.” 

“I didn’t mean-“

“_ I know _, I’m playin’ baby.” 

Wanda rolls her eyes and they come to a stop at the end of the line. It’s long and it’s freezing and there’s a giant group of guys and their girlfriends who look like the ever doom filling frat boys.

She’s never been to college, but she’s definitely heard enough stories about frats from the team and seen enough evidence that they’re just, to be away from as much as possible. 

Especially if they’re assholes, which these ones aren’t - yet. 

She’s got experience with plenty of those.

“You don’t really mind that I made you come out here?” Carol asks, voice underlined with worry.

“If I didn’t want to go somewhere then I wouldn’t have come, you know me better than that, handsome. Besides, I like spending time with you.” Wanda finishes it off with a reassuring smile and Carol looks incredibly relieved. 

“Well good. I like spendin’ time with you too.” 

Wanda hums and presses a kiss to Carol’s cheek, feeling warm at the lipstick mark it leaves. 

She’s warm by the time they get to the front of the line and Carol’s got the order down and her card out before Wanda can even think of digging through her purse for the five bucks it’d take to pay. She’s kind of relieved, not wanting to have to brush hands with a random stranger.

Telling the nice guy _ thank you _ when he gives them the drinks is hard enough, but she manages. Carol’s happy as can be sipping on her pop, arm finding its way back across Wanda’s shoulders. 

“Teddy bear time.” 

“You’re serious?” Wanda asks, unsure why she’s even surprised at this point when a happy grin spreads across Carol’s face. “You’re serious.” 

“Yup. It’s gonna be fun, I promise.” 

  


* * *

“We can’t put it there.” 

Carol turns her head from where she’s sat the giant blue teddy bear - _ Freddie _\- against Wanda’s dresser. It’s staring at her and she doesn’t think it would be fair for Freddie to get wrongly hex blasted because she’s half awake. 

“Why not?” 

“I can’t have sex with that thing watching me, Carol.” 

  


* * *

“So, how are you?” Adam asks that Friday, and Wanda can’t help but smile at him. 

“I’m good,” She says, finds that she actually _ means _it. It’s nice spending all day being lazy with Carol. She plays her video games and Wanda gets a free pillow on her lap to take a nap. “You?” 

“I’m good. Tucker’s got his first practice tonight.” 

“Football, right?” 

“Yep, he’s excited. How was your birthday?” Adam asks, seeming ready to jump straight in to the session. Wanda doesn’t remember telling him it was her birthday, but she supposes it was in her file. “It was Wednesday right? The 18th?” 

“Yeah. It was good. Carol took me to this little town festival and won me a teddy bear.” 

“A big one?” 

“The _ biggest _ ,” Wanda groans, thinking about Freddie and how Carol had refused to move him, which means Wanda refused to be touched - sad. “It took us thirty minutes to find and it was _ freezing _but she got me cotton candy, so.” 

“That makes up for it,” Adam says, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Anything else?” 

“Well, I got a birthday letter from Steve, and Carol kind of kissed me in front of everyone during breakfast.” The words come out in a slightly mumbled rush, Wanda’s cheeks going red. It’s still just, _ odd _ . She can kiss Carol and _ be _kissed whenever she wants now. It’s crazy.

And it was also never supposed to happen, but Wanda’s always had bad self control, this is just the only area she’ll even acknowledge it. 

“How’d that make you feel?” 

“Uhm, happy I think? Surprised mostly, but it’s nice. She’s very warm and easy to cling to and now I can do that without worrying.” 

“Do you think she has feelings for you too?” 

Wanda _ does _. Carol’s always looking at her with such softness in her eyes, dark and affectionate. 

When they’re not in the bedroom, she’s gentle. Strong and sweet and warm, increasingly so in the past two days. She can’t complain. 

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Adam raises a brow and Wanda almost wants to laugh. “How does that make you feel?” 

“Excited,” Wanda says, the word the first thing she can think of when it comes to the almost overwhelming warm, jittery feeling that forms in her chest when she sees Carol. 

“Not scared?” 

“Good scared, you know?” 

“Hope?” 

Wanda hums, not wanting to quite admit that maybe she _ was _feeling a little hopeful that they might not crash and burn so horribly. That maybe Wanda had finally earned the universe’s kindness and that she would get to keep Carol.

“And how’s the magic going? Have you asked her for help?” 

“No,” Wanda says, running a hand through her hair and leaning back against the chair. “I’m going to when I get home though. Or try.” 

“Good. That’s all I can ask you to do. Do you want to talk about more wellness techniques?” 

“Yeah,” Wanda says, giving a smile and a shrug of her shoulders. The techniques actually _ worked _for her, well, sometimes that is.

* * *

“So like, I get to help Sexy Witch be a sexy witch again?” Carol asks, giving her a big, goofy grin before taking a giant bite out of her burger.

Wanda is worried for her white sweater. 

But on the other hand, maybe a ketchup stain would do her some good. Wanda can’t stand that she’s going to be stuck with this nickname. 

“Sure,” Wanda says, letting out a partially annoyed sigh. 

It’s hard to be grumpy when Carol looks so _ good _ . Wanda’s truly having a hard time keeping her eyes off of her and Carol seems to know it. Know it and _ enjoy _it. She loves her wind ruffled hair and the way her sweater hugs her shoulders, she also loves that Carol’s wearing her little silver hoop again, small and cute from its place on her earlobe. Wanda kind of likes that she’s so cute.

“Cool,” Carol says when she finally swallows her food. She takes a sip of her soda and then reaches her hand across the table to snag one of Wanda’s french fries off of her plate. “You’ll be back to it in no time, darlin. I’m glad you thought to ask me to help, I’ll try my best.” 

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Wanda mumbles, cheeks heating up, eyes burning. 

She is _ not _going to cry.

“Hey,” Carol says, tapping Wanda’s foot with her own. She looks up, finds her looking at her with those soft eyes and _ no fucking _ ** _crying_ **. “You’re cute too.” 

And then she’s smiling, taking another bite of her burger and all Wanda can do is shake her head and steal the last of Carol’s curly fries.

* * *

“Okay, I’m done.” 

“Hey,” Carol says, and Wanda has to force herself to keep trying to breathe. They’ve been at this for _ hours _, all of Carol’s tricks falling short.

“No, Carol. It’s obviously not working, I’m broken.”

Carol sighs, gaze going frustrated, and then she’s cupping Wanda’s face in her hands and staring at her. The air shifts into something serious and Wanda almost trembles.

“You are _ not _broken.” 

She blinks, eyes burning with unshed tears, and lets out a shaky breath. “Carol-“

“You’re _ not _. You’re just a little rusty, okay? 

“Okay,” Wanda nods, bottom lip quivering, voice gone thick. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Carol says, tucking Wanda’s hair behind her ears before she moves her hands down to Wanda’s hips. Wanda lets out a light hum and clasps her fingers together on the backside of Carol’s neck.

“Are you wearing my sweatpants?” 

Wanda blinks, lips curling into a low smile. “I was wondering if you’d noticed.” 

“I have a hard time picturing you as a hufflepuff.” 

“Because I’m grumpy?” Wanda asks, eyes falling down to Carol’s lips. Her bottom one gets trapped between her teeth and Wanda suddenly feels very hot all over. Except Carol’s not binary, she’s just standing there, a dark look in her eyes.

“Because you’re an intelligent brat,” Carol says, voice sharp and stern in a way that makes Wanda’s knees threaten to buckle. 

“Intelligent, hm?” 

“Dangerously so,” Carol mutters, her breath hot against Wanda’s cheek. Then she’s kissing her, bruising and heated and thought stopping.

Wanda sinks into her, tugs Carol deeper into her mouth. The hands on her hips curve around to her lower back, and then they’re resting on her ass and squeezing. Wanda moans against Carol’s mouth, nails scratching at her hair.

“I’ve noticed something,” Carol says, voice slow and steady, rich in that way that makes Wanda incredibly wet. “You like it when I play with your ass, don’t you? Always tremblin’ extra hard.” 

Wanda tugs Carol into a heated and desperate kiss, whimpering against her mouth when Carol squeezes her ass, harder this time and sending a pleasant tremble up her spine. She nips at Wanda’s bottom lip and brings one of her hands down in a gentle slap, it makes Wanda gasp against her lips and she blushes, moves to tuck her face into Carol’s neck. 

She’s always kind of had a thing for spanking, and for being touched, well, _ there _. Natasha usually did it when they played and she thought Wanda deserved a reward, so if Carol really does this right now, she’ll probably be one happy girl for at least a week. That’s the power it holds.

Especially since she’s been trained to think of it as something like a present. 

Wanda secretly loves presents. 

“You bein’ shy now, sweet girl?” Carol asks, voice making Wanda do a happy and warm wiggle against her body. “You know, I’d do for it you.” 

Wanda feels burning hot and she untucks her face from Carol’s neck in disbelief. “Really?” 

“Really. I’ll do anything you want, you just gotta ask.”

“Okay,” Wanda says, thinking about several things that she could ask for already. 

“Would my cock be too big?” Carol asks, making Wanda blink as she shifts her thighs together, exhaling slightly at the littlest bits of friction.

“No. Just right.” 

“Are you sure?” Carol asks, eyes still dark but now mixed with seriousness. Wanda gives her a nod and a reassuring smile, excitement mixing pleasantly with the arousal in her belly. 

“Okay. Well let’s shower and get cleaned up then, hm?” 

Wanda gives her a sweet little kiss in response.

* * *

“We can’t do this in your room.” 

“Why not?” Carol’s whisper is loud and Wanda looks frantically over her shoulder. She does _ not _want to get noticed by the boys, she’s too needy.

“They’ll hear us.” 

“I thought the walls were-“

“_ Nope _,” Wanda rolls her eyes in annoyance. Her room is on the opposite end of the house, they’d have to be sitting in absolute silence to hear her at all. Especially since she’s been trained. 

“They were when Tony was here.” 

“Well he’s not,” Wanda says, voice going sharp. Something unhappy passes through Carol’s eyes so quick that Wanda thinks she’s imagined it.

“They’ll catch us if we go to your room.” 

Wanda thinks for a moment and then sighs, passes Carol on the stairs so that she can make her move faster. They are not going to get stuck watching the football game, which also meant having to deal with the smell of bean dip that everyone but Wanda absolutely loved. 

Natasha used to kiss her on purpose after eating it. Wanda couldn’t find it in herself to get angry.

She has a feeling Carol might act the same way.

“You’ll just have to be quiet,” Carol says, shutting her bedroom door behind them. “Can you do it?” 

“Natasha Romanoff was my girlfriend, of course I know how to do it,” Wanda gives Carol a proud smile at that. On days she was silent, Natasha always gave her the most praise. It takes an enormous amount of self control, but knowing that it would make Natasha proud was enough.

It’ll be easy to make Carol proud too.

“How quiet are we talking here?” She asks, stepping out of her shoes and raising a brow.

“Silent.” 

“No way. That’s not possible with you.” 

“It’s true,” Wanda says, not commenting on the last part of Carol’s sentence.

“Guess we’ll see.” 

Carol’s kissing her before she can even respond, warm and perfect enough to make Wanda’s knees tremble. She hopes Carol’s talkative, it’ll get her more into the mindset, make it easier.

“So like, was there a reward or something?” Carol’s lips brush against the skin of her jaw and Wanda nods, biting back a sigh when she nips at the spot beneath her earlobe. “Really?” 

Wanda nods again, tilting her head to the side so Carol can have more room. 

She pulls back then, of course, something odd shining in her eyes. “Do you like to play?” 

Wanda just shrugs, cheeks warm, and Carol’s smile turns knowing. She hates it. 

“You’re glaring at me.” 

Wanda rolls her eyes and rises up to press an annoyed kiss to Carol’s lips, she might’ve been wrong about the talking thing. Sometimes she forgot that Carol was unbearably annoying.

Carol gives her shirt a tug and Wanda pulls back, breathing hard, heart racing. She’s slow about taking it off, she knows it’s on purpose. Carol’s going to try to tease her into snapping, or begging, and Wanda’s determined to win.

Then comes the _ look _, the stupid one. The one where Carol’s gaze gets soft and lustful all at once, shining with awe as she moves her hands over Wanda’s sides. 

“Pretty girl.”

Wanda forgot how nice it was to tell Carol to touch her. Now she can’t, and if that stupid, plotting, twinkle in her eyes is anything to go by, Carol’s going to drive her insane. Well, more than usual. Wanda truly can’t fucking stand her.

“You’re being a brat.” 

Wanda raises an eyebrow and gives Carol an annoyed look, it only serves to make her grin wider. 

“Was that the _ try harder _ face?” 

Wanda nods and Carol laughs, slides her hands around Wanda’s hips and then kissing her, pulling her into her body. Her hands are big and warm and splayed open against Wanda’s back and she melts into her, hands finding her shirt, grip so tight that it makes her knuckles hurt. 

Carol breaks the kiss, lips moving to work on her jawline, and it’s so distracting that Wanda almost doesn’t feel the way Carol picks her up. She bites down hard on her cheek and glares down at Carol, who’s looking up at her with a happy grin.

It’s disarmingly cute. Wanda hates her.

Carol starts kissing at her neck and Wanda knows there’s not anything else that could feel as good as her mouth does when it’s on her skin. It doesn’t matter if it’s like this, or if it’s a simple forehead kiss. She’d died and been stuck in a void and Carol will never fail to feel like heaven.

Not that she’d say that, of course. She’d never hear the end of it and _ okay _ -

Carol’s got her lips around one of her nipples, teeth scraping, and Wanda pushes her tongue against the roof of her mouth, back arching up. 

She can do this, she can, never mind the fact that she can _ feel _ Carol’s smile against the skin of her right breast, can feel the way she lets out hums of happiness every so often. Carol loves boobs, Wanda figured that out _ very _quickly, and she just can’t complain about it. 

After all, if Carol’s face is buried in her boobs then she’s not talking, which means Wanda can’t get annoyed and can’t feel the way her heart threatens to beat out of her chest when she says sweet things. Wanda brings one of her hands up to the back of Carol’s head and bites back the sigh of content that threatens to leave her lips at the feeling of her hair underneath her fingertips.

“Babe?”

Wanda taps the fingers still wrapped in Carol’s shirt against her side three times in response.

“You got all soft on me.” 

Wanda’s eyebrows furrow and she opens her eyes, finds Carol staring at her, body leaning slightly away to do so. When did she move?

“What’re you thinkin’ about?” 

_ I might just be in with love you _.

Wanda forces herself to shrug, smile coming natural, if somewhat shaky, at the soft look in Carol’s eyes. _ Might _, that’s what’s important.

Not _ am _.

Not yet. 

“Good thoughts?” 

Wanda nods, brings her hands up to Carol’s face, forehead resting against her own, and she lets herself let out a shaky exhale, not a noise, just a breath. It’s okay to breathe, she knows, it doesn’t count. Then she kisses her, soft and slow, allows herself to feel that _ might be _.

It’s overwhelming in a warm way. That’s all Wanda can describe it as because it’s _ might be _, not the real thing, not that four letter word that strikes so many fears in her. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel the same, it does, she just can’t.

She’s got to find a way to talk to Natasha. She _ has _to tell her, somehow, even if it’s silly.

Carol lays her down on her bed, kisses turning deeper, more heated. Wanda tugs her in close, exhaling through her nose at the feeling of Carol’s body pressed against her own, the soft feeling of her shirt against her chest. 

_ Might be, might be, might be _.

* * *

“All worked up,” Carol coos, fingers slow, breath hot against the back of Wanda’s neck. 

She shakes, wishes Carol wasn’t being so gentle, it’s a lot. Sometimes she thinks she doesn’t deserve it, which is why she likes it more when Carol just straight up pounds her into the mattress until all Wanda can do is lay there like a pile of messy goo when they’re done.

“More than usual, I think.” She sounds pleased, and then one of her fingers is pressing into Wanda, slow until it’s buried to the knuckle. 

She tangles her hands in Carol’s sheets, bites at the inside of her cheek. She’s been taking her sweet time, since Wanda decided that the mood apparently needed to be switched. She can’t decide if she hates it or not, it’s kind of nice.

Carol’s attention is always nice.

And then she’s sliding her finger out, Wanda breathes in deep and _ fuck _ \- 

Carol’s got the pad of her finger pressed _ just _ against Wanda’s hole, it makes her push her ass up, ready to get used to it - and then she’s inside her again. It’s a rhythm after that, Carol’s slow about it, too, of course, and Wanda’s just down right frustrated at this point. She’s so close yet so far and every single time Carol presses against her she just _ wishes wishes wishes _that she’d slide it in. Even just the slightest bit. 

“Jus’ don’t want to hurt you,” She murmurs the words against the back of Wanda’s neck, lips soft and warm against her skin. Wanda shakes, feels that _ might be _ feeling again, and suddenly feels ready to be teased like this all night long.

“You’re doing a good job though, my girl.”

Wanda flushes, feels it down to her tummy, and smiles against the pillows. They smell like Carol’s shampoo, and it’s a comfort. An anchor. 

“Alright, don’t get mad. I’m just gonna move for a sec, hm? Get all ready.” Carol doesn’t move far away at all, Wanda manages to open her eyes and finds her popping the cap of a lube bottle open, night stand open just so. It sends a tremor down her spine and Wanda reaches one hand out, strokes lazily at the soft skin of Carol’s bare back, thinking her quite the sight for horny eyes.

Carol looks over at her with a smile, closes the nightstand with her knee and then is out of sight again. Wanda feels the knuckles of her right hand stroking across her lower back, and then something cold is hitting her _ there _, and Carol’s fingers are back. She’s slow about getting Wanda ready, the happy tingles it sends up her spine keeping her from reaching back and smacking at her to speed up. 

Also because Carol hasn’t stopped stroking her back and Wanda’s helpless when it comes to that. When it comes to being touched by her at all, really, but she likes her back being pet.

“Ready?” 

_ Please _.

She nods, gives her a lazy thumbs up for good measure, and feels warm and fuzzy at her laugh.

Wanda cums the second she’s got one of her fingers - the middle, she realizes - inside of her, body shaking, and she’s pretty sure she’ll break the skin of her lip if she bites down any harder

“Did you just-“ 

Wanda can’t help but flip her off and Carol laughs again, strokes her hand fully up her back. 

“I wasn’t teasing, baby doll. I think it’s hot that you like being touched like this so much.” 

Wanda’s got to have a full body blush, and she knows she’s shifted over into a different mindset. 

The floaty one, the one where nothing else matters except for Carol and her praises and the way she feels just, _ grateful _to be touched by her.

“Okay, I’m gonna keep going. Sound good?” 

Wanda gives her another thumbs up, excited and needy and willing to let Carol do this to her all night long if she wants. Carol goes back to stroking her back as she starts a slow, easy paced thrust that makes Wanda feel crazy.

“Doin’ so good bein’ quiet for me. I’d meant it as a joke, though, darlin. I don’t care if they hear you,” And it’s tempting to break, to moan and beg for more, but Carol’s praise and the feeling it brings is stronger. So she doesn’t, just lets herself appreciate the way Carol’s southern accent comes out more when she’s worked up.

It’s very hot. 

Then the pace is broken and Wanda nearly cries, bites back the whimper of protest before it can leave her throat. This time the sting isn’t muted by the excitement and Wanda trembles, pushes her hips back into Carol’s fingers in an attempt to help them get inside of her faster. She feels full, feels all that heat trying to build itself up again.

It’ll take more, though, this time. Carol’s got to stretch her with three fingers before she uses her cock and Wanda’s more than okay with waiting for both. But also incredibly desperate to get there, to be full, to have Carol’s arm wrapped around her body, to maybe have her fingers in her mouth, the other holding her hip.

The thought alone makes her thighs tremble, Wanda feels her slick run down them, wonders if she’s going to make a mess of the sheets. Probably. There was once where she’d been so worked up that she’d well, she’d made a _ big _ mess, had felt embarrassed and too jell-o like to move. Natasha had stayed in bed with her the entire next day, had told Wanda how much she loved her and how pretty and _ good _she was.

The memory makes her eyes burn, and then Carol’s stretching her around three fingers and Wanda exhales something shaky, feels tears slip down her cheeks at how good the burn feels.

“Oh baby,” Carol murmurs, body warm against Wanda’s as she presses a kiss to her temple, her fingers picking up just the tiniest bit. “You’re so good for me, so good. Always take me so well, I love makin’ you feel this way-“ A kiss is pressed to her shoulders. “I really, _ really _do.” 

Wanda’s breathing heavy now, body practically buzzing with happiness at having Carol pressed so close to her. She can feel her presence like a warm blanket, the energy no longer such a scary thing to feel, rather a comfort instead. 

And then Carol’s fingers curl up as they thrust into her again, hits that spot that makes Wanda’s toes curl. She bites down hard on the pillow in front of her, remembers the rules, remembers to be quiet. Carol’s other hand is resting flat against her tummy, holding her steady, lips kissing along the line of her spine and making Wanda ache.

_ Might be _.

“You tell me if it’s too much, okay?” 

Wanda nods, although the words come in one ear and out the other. She’s too high on Carol to function properly, and by that she means move any of her limbs. It feels like a betrayal when Carol’s fingers aren’t stretching her open anymore, Wanda’s close to crying again.

“Wanda?” 

She blinks her eyes open, feels Carol’s hand on her bicep. She’s so handsome that it makes Wanda smile, taking in the way the lamp light falls over her abs, the way the red sports bra she’s wearing looks against her skin. 

“You okay?” 

Wanda furrows her eyebrows and concentrates as hard as she can given the circumstances, and then she sees them, tiny tendrils of red finding their way to Carol’s skin. Her magic fucking _ worked _. It worked during a time like this.

Wanda isn’t breathing a word of this to her therapist _ ever _, although she’s grateful.

“Oh, woah,” Carol mumbles, her eyes closing. Wanda watches the way she swallows, then finally sees that she’s been stroking at her cock, shiny with what’s apparently the last of the now crumpled up lube bottle in her hand. “God, darlin’ is that how you feel? How _ I’m _makin’ you feel?”

Wanda does it again, Carol drops the bottle, opens her eyes. They’re dark, her pupils blown wide, pretty lips parted slightly. She nods in response to her question and then Carol’s kissing her, heated and desperate, Wanda’s back falling against the bed as she pushes her down. 

Her hands find Carol’s biceps and she grips at them tightly, giddy at having her so close but also so fucking desperate to be stretched around her cock. 

“Want - can you do that when you cum?”

Wanda nods, gives Carol’s arms a desperate squeeze. She’ll try her best to, anyway. The last thing she needs is to break a window or something on accident trying to share with Carol.

If this is the only time she uses her powers, so be it. She’s never heard Carol’s voice be so accent rich before, never heard it so low, never seen such a hungry, desperate look in her eyes. 

She wants her. Carol _ wants _her. 

It makes her feel warm. 

And then the tip of Carol’s cock is pressing against her hole, her hands keeping Wanda’s legs spread apart. It makes her shake, her eyes falling closed. She’s vaguely aware of the sharp noise that Carol makes when she pushes the tip in. She’s more focused on holding back what would probably be a very, _ very _loud moan.

Her lips part open when Carol slides the head in, eyes opening to stare at her, tongue pressed against the top of her mouth to keep herself from crying out. She’s practically panting, breathing uneven and heavy, heart a frenzy in her chest.

“God you’re so pretty.”

The words come out breathless, Carol’s breathing as hard as she is, and Wanda grips one of her hands tight as she keeps going. 

She almost comes undone when Carol finally bottoms out, hand going white-knuckled as she holds onto Carol’s like it’s a lifeline.

“Such a good girl,” She murmurs, brings one of her hands up to stroke Wanda’s face. “My girl?”

Wanda nods, cheeks flushing, stomaching feeling like it’s got a flurry of butterflies in it.

Then Carol’s hand falls back to her thigh and she picks up the pace, still slow, the burn of the stretch falling into pleasure once she’s finally used to it. She taps Carol’s hand with her fingers, looks at her with pleading and hooded eyes.

“Faster?”

Wanda nods. Carol smiles, gives her thigh a squeeze, and then picks up the pace again.

She goes even faster when Wanda hooks her legs around her waist and tugs her in deeper, arms hooking around her neck, holding her close to her body. Carol kisses at her skin, messy and light, her hips meeting Wanda’s own with each thrust, and then she hits that spot again, the one that makes Wanda see god damn stars. 

Again and again and again and again and _ again _, until Wanda’s cumming, body arching up into Carol’s as she falls apart. It’s mind numbing, almost feels like a thousand little firecrackers going off in her body, unaware of anything else.

“Oh _ fuck _,” Carol breathes against her neck, her hips jerk and she thrusts into Wanda again, it makes her push at her arms. Too much.

“_ Fuck _ ,” She mutters again. Wanda feels the way her body trembles. “Fuck. Sorry, I- _ wow _.”

“You know, you’re kind of like, glowin?”

Wanda forces her eyes open. Sure enough, there’s a red hue wrapped around their bodies, little tendrils of magic floating around. It’ll fade on it’s own, she knows, so she closes her eyes again with nothing but a tired grunt. 

“Don’t fall asleep on me, hm? I’ve gotta clean you up first, doll. Then I can hold you real tight.”

(Carol takes care of her, brings her water and a chopped up apple and lets Wanda eat it while she changes the bedsheets. Then she keeps her word and holds her real tight, pressed snuggly against her back, body warm and comforting.

Wanda knows she’s past _ might be _.)

* * *

“Do you ever think about looking in my head?”

Wanda sits up at the question, which is what really annoys her more than anything else. She was having a good time laying pressed against Carol’s side, holding onto her waist while Carol’s hand stroked her hair. “Why?”

“I just - Natasha told me that she let you do it, after awhile, after she started to trust you with her life,” Carol says the words, the look on her face is something close to shy. It’s weird.

“Yeah. The things that made her unable to speak, or the things that made her have hope. It goes both ways though, did she tell you that?”

“She told me that you did it first and without being scared of letting her in. Told me that it was one of those moments where she realized she was really cared for by someone, trusted, even.” 

“I knew she cared for me,” Wanda says with a shrug, moving her body so she can lay on her stomach, leaning her head on her arm, close to Carol’s side. “It was the way she looked at me.” 

“And you didn’t doubt it? The look?” Carol asks, bringing her hand up to Wanda’s face, stroking hair back and behind her ear.

“No.”

“At all?” Carol asks, raising an eyebrow, disbelief shining in her eyes. 

“Even when we were apart, even when we almost hated each other, I never doubted it. I didn’t have to, she looked at me like that regardless of how she was feeling.”

“Almost hated each other?” 

Wanda sighs, feeling that ache creep up on her again. “I loved her so much that I _ almost _ hated her. The feelings, to say the least, were close enough. I wish we’d had the time to grow back together, you know? There was - _ is _ still so much left to say. It’s what makes me angry the most.”

“I think about going there sometimes,” Carol says, her voice quiet and soft, eyes serious. 

“Vormir?” Wanda asks, the word tastes like ash in her mouth. 

“Yeah. To feel her, or whatever, you know?” 

“You think we could feel her?” Wanda asks, for the first time wondering if her powers could connect her to Natasha’s soul. She wants it so much that her chest aches. “Really?”

“Maybe.”

“I want it,” Wanda says, and Carol’s eyes flash with surprise at the words, lips parting to inhale a shaky, heavy, breath. “I think about talking to her all the time, Carol. About hearing what she’d have to say, if she were here, you know?”

“And what do you think she’d say now?” Carol asks, hand resting on Wanda’s cheek, fingers warm against her skin. 

Wanda hums, thinks about it, and says,”I think she’d be complaining about us even questioning giving her attention.”

Carol huffs, lips curving into a smile that makes Wanda feel warm. Then she’s sitting up slightly and ducking her head down to press a kiss to Wanda’s lips, sweet and warm and _ home _.

* * *

**Carol [1:33 p.m] : ** _ You were serious, right? _

Wanda blinks several times at the picture that comes with the message. It’s a ship, is the only thing that she’s willing to let herself wrap her mind around in the waiting room for her counseling appointment. 

**Wanda [1:35 p.m] : ** _ Right _

**Carol [1:35 p.m] : ** _ Sunday? _

**Wanda [1:35 p.m] : ** _ Sunday. _

The confirmation, the knowledge that they’ll actually be _ going _to the place where Natasha died, it makes Wanda’s chest feel heavy.

She thinks Carol might’ve texted her before seeing Adam on purpose. This is definitely the only thing she’ll be able to think of, let alone talk about. She just hopes nothing bad happens.

* * *

Wanda wakes up with a scream in the back of her throat, tears falling from her eyes, breathing heavy and mismatched - panicked. 

She runs a hand through her hair and looks over at Carol. Her arm is still loosely draped across Wanda’s waist, hair half smooshed against the pillow, the soft morning glow shines through the curtains and makes her look all soft. 

She’s gorgeous. 

Wanda loves her. Wanda wants to tell her. 

That thought reminds her that she’ll get to in peace, after tomorrow. It lessens the heavy feeling that’s been stuck in her chest like a rock. 

“You ‘kay?” Carol mumbles, voice thick with sleep. She tugs Wanda down and against her chest before she even opens her mouth to respond. Wanda lets out a sigh, squeezes the hand on her stomach and shimmies back into Carol’s mini-heater worthy warmth. 

“Just dreams.” 

“‘M, I’ll keep you safe.” The words come with Carol tightening her hold, a clumsy kiss being pressed to her shoulder. She smiles at the words, lets herself relax and appreciate the cuteness of sleepy Carol. 

Hopes that this won’t be yanked away from her too. Wanda knows she wouldn’t be able to take it, knows that she’d probably, _ finally _, snap.

* * *

“We should come with you.”

“I’m almost positive that if anything is out there, it wouldn’t be able to handle me or my girl,” Carol says, hands on her hips, annoyed look in her eyes. _ My girl _. The words make Wanda smile.

“It’s the safer thing to do,” Sam says, and Wanda gets it, feels bad for putting that anxious, pinched up expression on his normally cheerful face.

“And I’m like, the safest person to be around, okay? We’re going to be fine. If we’re not, I’ll find a way to get to you. Understood?” 

Wanda’s going to have emotional whiplash, or something, because while she’s anxious and that horribly heavy feeling is still rooted down in her chest, she still wants Carol to fuck her using her _ strictly business _voice. Her words, not Wanda’s.

Besides, she’s useless when it comes to Carol in her suit. 

“Understood.” It sounds as reluctant as Sam looks and he takes a few steps back, staring up at the spaceship they’re taking and letting out a slow breath. “I want space pictures.”

“You got it, now go inside Wilson, this thing’ll knock you on your ass.” 

Sam lets out a laugh at that and turns back towards the house. Bucky waves at them from his place on the back porch and Wanda gives him a smile as she waves back. 

“You ready, darlin?” Carol asks, dropping her hands from her hips, one arm extending so that she can take Wanda’s hand. 

“As ready as I can be, I think,” Wanda says, gives Carol a shaky smile. She gets a cute one in return, a squeeze to her hand, and then Carol’s leading her up the stairs that lead up to the ship.

It looks just like a quinjet, for the most part, the only difference is that Wanda gets to sit by the pilot’s seat, gets to hold Carol’s hand as they take off. 

Space is fucking awesome. 

* * *

They get to Vormir after what feels like forever, Carol having showed her so many places she hadn’t known existed. They’d gotten as close as they could without it ending up as some intruder alert, and Wanda thinks Sam will like his pictures.

“Okay, so, we have to touch down and then fly up regularly,” Carol says, squeezing Wanda’s hand before she moves it to control the ship.

“Right, do we know if that Skull guy is still here?” Wanda asks, biting the inside of her cheek as she looks around, goosebumps spreading across her body as she shivers. It’s an awful place.

“Not sure. Rogers could have killed him without any of us knowing.”

“That’s…” Wanda trails off, lets out a heavy sigh and feels anger mix it’s way in with her other emotions. 

“I know,” Carol says, there’s a hard level of understanding in her voice. Wanda decides to focus on the way her hands look moving around levers and pushing the right buttons so that they can land. It helps, she’s very distracting.

The heavy feeling in Wanda’s chest spreads as soon as they touch down, her whole body going stiff as she stares at the giant hunks of purple looking rocks in front of them. 

“Is it supposed to feel like this?” She asks, fingers gripping the armrests of her seat. 

She feels stuck to it.

“Dreadful? This is where people _ sacrifice _ the person they love the most, I’d say it fits the whole point pretty well.” Carol’s voice is anger laced and bitter, Wanda turns to look at her, reaches out to run a hand through her hair at the sight of her clenched up jaw and clenched fists.

“We’ve got this, yeah?” Wanda asks, trying to keep it together, to not let her feelings win.

Carol nods, tilts her face so that her cheek rests against Wanda’s palm, her dark eyes watery. 

“Yeah.” She brings one hand up to Wanda’s wrist, lips barely brushing a kiss against her hand, and gives her a shaky smile. “Let’s go say goodbye to our girl.”

* * *

Carol doesn’t let go of her when they finally get to the top of the mountain. In fact, her grip grows even tighter, the air changing into something that has Wanda threatening to kneel over and puke.

It’s what makes her grip Carol just as tight, not wanting to leave the safety of being pressed up close against her. She can see the cliff’s edge, can see all the other mountains that are past the drop, and her stomach feels like it’s hit the ground at the bottom already. 

She hates that this is where Natasha died, in a place so cruel and unforgiving. She deserved to live forever, an actual life, at that. One with the cat she always wanted to adopt and in a house big enough for the two of them outside of the city. 

The life she’d talk to Wanda about.

But she knows. She knows Natasha’s soul is finally at rest, knows that she’s finally cleared all the red out of her ledger a thousand times over.

It’s what makes her step away from Carol, giving her arm a squeeze before she starts forward. 

The air feels sharp enough to cut through her skin by the time she gets within five steps from the cliff. There’s no sign of the Skull guy, Wanda thinks it makes her feel even more unsettled.

What if the stone was gone? What if history was set to repeat itself? What if Natasha died for something that would never end? 

“Hey,” Carol says, her voice is warm, it cuts through the chill and brings comfort instead. 

“I can’t feel her,” Wanda says, feels the way her chin quivers as she tries to contain the need to cry. She doesn’t want to, not here. The cliff would win, she knows, and it doesn’t deserve that. 

“Maybe we have to get closer,” Carol says, taking Wanda’s hand and lacing their fingers together, her grip tight and solid and grounding.

It fills Wanda with the courage she’s desperately been trying to find, so she takes a deep, chest heaving breath, and then takes the steps she needs to be standing at the edge. Carol falls in place beside her and then -

Wanda feels her. Feels her so suddenly that she feels winded, like all the air got sucked out of her lungs and all she can do is gasp. Gentle deadliness and warmth, maybe love, it washes over her in a heavy blanket that feels as close to coming home as she’s ever experienced. 

“Natasha?” She asks, and she’s crying now, tears hot as they roll down her cheeks. 

“You can feel her?” Carol asks, and Wanda nods, feels like her heart might burst out of her chest. She concentrates instead, concentrates on sending over waves of red over Carol’s body so that she can feel her too. She thinks it might not be working, might not be possible, but then Carol’s gasping too, gripping her hand so tight that it hurts, and Wanda just _ aches _all over.

“She’s here, baby. She’s _ here _,” Wanda says, voice going soft to try and calm the full body trembles that Carol’s having. 

“That’s - it’s - _ God _,” Carol groans, wiping at her eyes with one hand before she turns to look at Wanda. The smile on her face is heart stopping, like Wanda’s pretty sure it just quit working for a few beats. “I didn’t think it would work.” 

“Me either,” Wanda says, and her voice sounds as breathless as she feels. 

“I’m glad it did - glad that it’s _ you _,” And she’s never seen that look in Carol’s eyes before but Wanda knows it can only be described as one thing. 

So, she takes a deep breath, steels herself, and says the words that have been threatening to leave her lips for the past week. 

“I love you.” 

Carol blinks, opens her mouth to speak, but then there’s the sound of a pebble moving across the ground and Wanda’s entire body freezes as she turns to look over her shoulder. 

There, leaning back against one of the giant rock pillars, is Natasha. Living and breathing and absolutely _ grinning _as she takes a step forward.

“Took you long enough.” 

  



End file.
